


Cellophane

by grimeysociety



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Darcy Lewis Is a Good Bro, Dating, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Male-Female Friendship, Mutual Pining, POV Darcy Lewis, Slow Burn, WinterShock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-02-28 22:36:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18765667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimeysociety/pseuds/grimeysociety
Summary: Darcy isn't having luck in the dating game. Bucky thinks he can be the perfect wingman.





	1. Part One: Minotaur

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I have no idea how long this fic will be. Instead of writing one-shots to procrastinate working on my bigger fics, I'm writing a whole new WIP. At least I'm being honest about my laziness? Ugh.
> 
> Anyway, welcome. Hope you enjoy your stay. 
> 
> The title of this fic comes from the song "Cellophane" by FKA twigs. Watch the phenomenal music video [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YkLjqFpBh84)

_Didn't I do it for you?_  
_Why don't I do it for you?_

\- "Cellophane" by FKA twigs

 

 

**Part One: Minotaur**

 

Darcy’s phone pings when she’s in the labs, readying herself to leave for the night. It’s Friday night and she pulls her phone from her cardigan pocket to read the display.

_Sorry, can’t make it._

Her hearts sinks a little. She closes her eyes and sighs. She was looking forward to meeting the guy who’s just texted her. But there’s no explanation, no rain check. She deletes his text and turns off her desk lamp.

“FRIDAY, off,” she murmurs, and the lab lights dim immediately.

She takes the elevator upstairs and manages to put herself back together before she reaches the common room. She walks in from the hallway, seeing the back of three familiar heads.

Steve, Sam and Bucky are all sitting on the couch watching TV and she puts on her best smile.

“Hey, dumbass,” she calls.

She laughs as all three of them respond to her by whipping their heads around. She walks up behind the couch and runs her hand along the back of it, her fingers ghosting over Bucky’s shoulder before she stops in front of them, partially blocking their view of the screen.

“My date cancelled on me, so who’s taking me out?” she asks, crossing her arms.

Steve sips his beer and shakes his head. Probably training business, and Sam gives her a similar response.

“I got a date,” he replies, but he’s smiling at her. “You’d like her. Kelly.”

“Kelly from R&D? The sleeve tattoo?” Darcy asks, picturing the woman who always wears big gold hoops on her ears. “Good for you.”

“Yeah,” Sam says. He nudges Bucky. “ _He_ hesitated.”

Bucky is watching Darcy the entire time, a beer in his metal hand. Darcy glances at him and her eyebrows hike.

“I thought you were seeing… I wanna say Gertrude?” Darcy asks, screwing up her face as if she can’t remember the name.

“Stephanie,” Bucky says, and Darcy supposes he means to seem annoyed by her deliberate blunder but his eyes are bright with amusement. “We broke up.”

“Ah. Sorry, dude,” Darcy says. “Stephanie, Gertrude – same thing.”

“It’s not really –”

“Anyway, I still want to go out, so _leggo_ ,” she says, cocking her head in the direction of the elevator beyond.

Bucky blinks at her. “You were going to go on a date dressed like that?”

Darcy pauses, shocked. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”

She looks down at her body and Bucky’s eyes rest on the stain on her thigh.

“Is that Sriarcha?” he murmurs, and Darcy flips him off.

Sam and Steve chuckle together. Darcy gives a gasp of mock hurt.

“I’m a damsel in distress. And clearly I like food, so…”

Bucky puts down his beer and stands up, and Darcy’s face changes. She thought it would take more nagging, but she had noticed Bucky was less of a wet blanket lately.

“See you, fellas,” she says to Sam and Steve, and Sam gives her a little wave.

Bucky follows her out and she presses the button for the elevator and they wait. She bumps his boot with her sneaker.

“Thanks, for this,” she murmurs, and Bucky shakes his head.

“Nothing to it, Lew.”

She gives a small smile at the nickname. She can’t remember when that started – probably months ago, but it’s all he ever calls her and she likes it.

When they’re riding down to the lobby, Darcy scoffs.

“God, what was Gertrude’s problem?” she mutters.

“Wouldn’t know how to begin to answer that,” he replies, sounding a little weary.

She glances at him, and he pushes the long hair out of his face, carding his hair through the strands and watching the numbers go down as they descend.

“I’ll help you find someone else,” she says, nudging him. “I’m the best wingman. Not that you need any assistance. I bet girls hear an Ariana Grande song in their head every time you look their way.”

His eyes swing towards hers and he blinks.

“I don’t know who that is.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll get you some phone numbers,” Darcy says with a wave of her hand.

“Anything for another chance to get burned,” he mutters.

He sounds disheartened but she knows he’d try anyway. She suspects his a hopeless romantic and he will never stop looking.

The bar is called Minotaur and Darcy wanted to go for weeks. The guy she was texting with told her about it, and tonight was meant to be his first night off in a while. Darcy keeps checking on Bucky to see if he’s okay, because there are a lot of loud noises from all the arcade machines that take up the majority of the bar.

Bucky surveys the room and Darcy can see he’s looking for exits and possible dangers and she ducks her head as she smiles. He gestures to the bar.

“You want a drink?”

She nods. He walks off and she spots _Galaga_ in one corner and she lunges toward it, looking for some coins in her purse. She hasn’t played in the longest time but it’s an old favorite. Soon Bucky joins her with two beers and she’s too absorbed to acknowledge him.

“Lew.”

“Hmm?”

“Could you hold my beer?”

Darcy loses her last life and she sighs, annoyed. She glances at Bucky, forgetting what he said.

“Hold my beer,” he says, and she takes both of them wordlessly.

The bar is busy but Darcy doesn’t think he’s on high alert. He seems distracted, and she finally notices what he’s staring at – a shooting game with one red and one blue plastic guns in their holsters and Darcy takes a sip of her beer, her eyes widening.

“You’d be really good at that.”

Bucky glances at her briefly as he feeds the machine some coins.

“I’ve never played before.”

Darcy scoffs, taking another sip and licking her lips.

Bucky picks up the red gun and takes an expert stance, readying himself. She laughs a little at how serious his face looks and he sticks his tongue out at her for a lightning second before the first level starts.

He hits every target without blinking. Darcy points at the pedal on the floor.

“You hit that to reload.”

He draws the gun back and reloads, then takes down five more targets. Darcy watches him move through each level precisely. He’s untouchable, even when he’s swarmed by gunmen running across the screen.

People at other machines begin to take notice, and Darcy sees several men come to stand near her and watch Bucky decimate the prey.

“Holy shit, dude,” one guy says. He’s wearing a Yankees hat and Darcy’s afraid Bucky will notice.

He’s very sensitive about the Dodgers still and loathes the Yankees entirely.

There are murmurs around them and Darcy smiles. She can tell Bucky is starting to feel a little edgy because he lets himself be hit a couple times, wiping out two of his lives.

His third goes when a blonde girl walks by and Darcy sees that’s her mark for the night. She watches the girl out of the corner of her eye as she orders a drink at the bar.

Bucky got a high score and writes his name as AAA and steps back from the machine, taking his beer from Darcy. The crowd has disappeared and Darcy nods at the blonde with legs for days.

“Her?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, like I said, you don’t need help from me,” Darcy replies.

He hesitates just the same and Darcy frowns.

“What’s up?”

“I don’t want to ditch you.”

“It hasn’t stopped you before,” Darcy retorts, but there’s no venom to her words. “Go ahead, I’ll be fine.”

Bucky’s jaw works for a second and Darcy watches his face as he considers the blonde. He glances away finally, shaking his head.

“Nah, I’ll get you a date.”

“What?”

“I’ll be your wingman,” he says, taking another sip of beer.

He glances around the bar and Darcy makes a face.

“You want to give me dating advice?” she says, her eyebrows quirking. “You? A literal one hundred year-old?”

Bucky looks her up and down. “You got any better ideas?”

“Yeah. In my phone.”

“Did the guy who cancelled come from your phone?” Bucky retorts without missing a beat. It makes it seem like he’s been thinking about it for a little while and Darcy narrows her eyes.

“You want me to follow your antiquated dating advice?”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m _not_ old-fashioned.”

She didn’t doubt that, but the idea of Bucky meddling in her dating life makes her feel unsettling things and she wants to hunch her shoulders and drink in a corner instead of being grilled.

“ _What happened to Brooklyn_? Wah.”

“Rude,” he replies. “You always use the same dumb voice for men when you imitate them.”

He was right, which makes Darcy laugh.

“I have a high voice, of course you sound fucking stupid when I’m doing an impression.”

They pause, and the bar is forgotten while they stare each other down. Darcy relents because she never wins staring contests with Bucky and knows she never will. She shakes her head.

“It’s not about sex.”

“I know it ain’t,” he replies.

“Don’t make fun of me,” she says, and he chuckles.

“ _I’m not_. You’re gorgeous, and you want a boyfriend,” he replies.

Darcy feels herself blush and she shakes her head. She’s terrible when it comes to compliments from him because he gives them so freely, and she knows he’s serious enough to never lie to her.

He tugs at her elbow and she lets him drag her over to another game – _Street Fighter II_ – and they play a couple games. Bucky doesn’t go easy on her but she puts in the effort, smashing the keys over and over and yelling when she’s almost beating him.

“Shit,” she mutters, and Bucky just laughs.

She leans against him as she laughs with him, bumping her forehead against his metal arm concealed by his jacket.

-

The next day they’re getting bubble tea, wearing sunglasses under the sun while Manhattan bustles around them.

“So if we’re doing this right, there’s no more guys from apps,” Bucky says, and Darcy makes a face.

“Come on. I have to… network?”

“What’s your type?” Bucky asks, ignoring her gripe. He sips his drink and chews on the tapioca pieces while Darcy thinks.

She looks at a man walking across the street wearing a suit, a cell phone at his ear. He's African American and built like a tree.

“Black?”

“No,” Darcy says, and then shakes her head. “I mean, _yeah_. But – ‘type’ seems kinda dumb to me. I like men. I just like… men.”

Bucky considers this. “Okay. But we need something to work with.”

Darcy thought about it when she showered that morning. She wishes she had a better picture in her head. She sighs a little.

“I don’t usually like the guys who are into me, if that makes sense.”

“What type is that?”

Darcy shrugs. “I dunno, but at some point they usually say I’m a real woman because I’m not really skinny and that makes me super uncomfortable.”

“Right,” Bucky replies, nodding. “Because you’re…”

“Thick?” Darcy says, and Bucky looks confused.

“I was gonna say built like a Coke bottle.”

Darcy’s smiling before she can stop herself.

“But I shouldn’t say that,” he adds.

“Steve said once that I look like the girls on the planes? Like, the ones painted on the side of the plane during the war?”

Bucky looks stunned, pulling his straw away from his mouth and swallowing.

“Stevie said that?”

She’s never heard him refer to Steve as that before and she smiles again.

“Yeah.”

Bucky goes quiet, mulling this new information over.

“So why didn’t he…?” he cuts himself off, looking at Darcy. “When was that?”

“A while ago.”

When Steve said it, he sort of blurted it and then felt bad about it. He had as little game as Darcy did, so she never tried to initiate anything other than playful banter.

She knew she wasn’t exactly his type. She wasn’t exactly ideal girlfriend material.

“Listen,” Darcy says suddenly, and Bucky’s eyes snap up to hers. He seems pulled back from his thoughts and there’s a flash of concern across his face. “I need help.”

“You said you were fine.”

“I need someone with your expertise. Also, you’re a male, so maybe you’ll be more honest than Natasha. She’s the only other person whose advice I’d want.”

She thinks of Jane and Bruce, two brilliant minds equally bad at navigating their own romances. She trusts Bucky the most but she doesn’t add that. She feels that’s implied by how she looks at him.

“No-one is more honest than Natasha,” Bucky replies, and Darcy tilts her head.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

One night Natasha came home in a blue sundress during the summer, her arms caked with blood she assured Darcy wasn’t hers. Darcy sometimes thinks of how composed Natasha was, looking like she wore two long red gloves with splatters down her dress. She had the most secrets.

They lapse into silence and Darcy thinks of Bucky calling the spy _Natalia_ once, which made Darcy’s mind reel with the implication, the birth name so personal in her ears.

“Don’t date anyone from SHIELD,” Bucky says, and Darcy shoots him a look.

“Wouldn’t it be easier if I did?” Darcy mutters. “Less to explain.”

“Most of those guys are above your pay grade, and not exactly nice,” he says, and Darcy frowns a little at him.

“They’ve talked about me with you.”

“I don’t talk to anyone,” Bucky says, but Darcy can’t be fooled.

“Then you’ve _overheard_ them say shit.”

“You want someone decent? Look outside the Tower,” Bucky replies.

He finishes his drink while Darcy tries to guess in her head what Bucky’s heard. He stands up, giving Darcy a pointed look.

“Okay, I won’t. But I’ll need you every step of the way.”

She follows him down the street, and she’s thankful that he’s slowing down for her. Usually he moves as fast as possible to get out of public spaces.

“You’re not completely hopeless,” he says.

Darcy’s stomach flutters and she swallows, feeling that old warmth, that assuring glow from within. At least she’s got Bucky, even if she ends up dying alone.

“I know, and I’m cute as hell,” she murmurs, and Bucky laughs.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [That man is playing Galaga!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t4Fy6AUMv8E)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I went to a bar a few weeks ago and immediately thought of Bucky being in a place just like it, full of arcade games. The place also had pinball machines (with a tournament on the night I was there), as well as board games and console games. It was heaven. It's in Brisbane, Australia and it's called Netherworld. The bar being called Minotaur is a reference to the comic book retailers of the same name.
> 
> leggo = let's go
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [#an ariana grande song plays in my head when i see his face](https://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/post/184724193503)


	2. Part Two: You hung the moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for being so sweet about the first part. Enjoy another one!

_You got me trippin', stumblin', flippin', fumblin'_

\- "Clumsy" by Fergie

 

 

**Part Two: You hung the moon**

 

Darcy lies on the kitchen bench. She’s staring at the ceiling when Bucky walks in, giving her a quick glance before he crosses his arms, leaning against the bench.

“Get your butt off the counter, Lew. It ain’t sanitary.”

She’s been there about half an hour waiting for someone to show up. She moves up to lean on her elbows, quirking one eyebrow.

“I was on the floor before.”

“Why?”

“It’s so inviting,” she murmurs, and she grabs her neglected martini glass and takes a sip.

“What are you drinking?”

She passes it to him without answering and he takes a sip, making a face.

“Jesus, is this two parts gin… one part gin?” he mutters, staring at her glass. “That’s terrible.”

He takes it away, tipping it down the sink and then goes to the refrigerator.

Darcy tilts her head and watches him from behind.

“Bucky… do you know how much I love you?”

There’s a loud clunk of Bucky fumbling something in the fridge and Darcy watches him right the bottle he’s knocked and he turns around, vermouth in hand, expressionless.

“What do you need?” he says, not rising to the bait.

“To the moon and back,” Darcy says, as if he’s not as grumpy as he sounds. “No, wait. You hung the moon. Bucky, you hung the moon.”

He makes her a drink, shaking his head.

“You want me to tag along to your date tomorrow,” he says.

Darcy bites her lip. “Yeah.”

“You’re a big girl, you’ll be fine,” he says.

He hands her the new drink and she takes a sip. It’s a lot smoother than her creation and she licks her lips, nodding.

“But I need you. I’m hopeless without you,” she says. “I don’t even know what to wear.”

Bucky stares her down and she blinks, looking away.

“ _Come on_ , Buck.”

He starts to walk away and Darcy hops off the bench, taking her drink and races after him.

“I’ll do your laundry for a week.”

Bucky smirks a little at that and Darcy thinks she’s got him.

“No.”

She dashes in front of him, walking backwards. He doesn’t slow down and Darcy keeps looking behind so she doesn’t suddenly trip.

“A month. Laundry for a month. Keeping in mind that I’d be an angel to wash your gym gear because you stink –”

“I thought I hung the moon?” he says, but he’s laughing at her.

“Right. That and you’re super smart and handsome. I mean, I’m overcome by how –”

He cuts her off with a wave of his metal hand, shaking his head.

“Alright. Cut it out.”

“Let me finish. I’m overcome by your mere presence, it’s a miracle I can walk let alone stand.”

Bucky chuckles. “It’s a miracle because your drink was way too strong for your short ass.”

They turn a corner and they’re in the common room, and Darcy spies Sam sitting on the couch, beer in hand.

“You didn’t get salsa, dipshit,” he says to Bucky. He nods to Darcy. “Sup?”

“He forgot, he’s meant to be hanging with me tonight,” Darcy says with a broad smile, and Bucky shoots her an irritated look.

“That’s a lie.”

“Well, you’re busy either way because you didn’t get salsa.”

She was about to launch into a bigger explanation for Sam but Bucky takes off back the way they came and Darcy is left alone with Sam.

“What was Barnes meant to be doing tonight?” Sam asks.

Darcy blushes under his gaze, which surprises her a little because she thought she stopped doing that whenever Sam spoke to her. Darcy just does that around handsome people. She’s best at it with Thor because he just smiles at her like she’s the only person in the room, but he does that with everyone.

Sam always seems to pry and Darcy’s embarrassed.

“Dating stuff,” she replies. She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, shaking her head. “I need advice.”

“From _him_?” Sam says, and she nods. “Then God help you.”

“He’s not that bad,” Darcy says immediately. She’s heard about how bad Bucky used to be with socialising.

She witnessed it up close the first time they met. She did her lame little wave at him when Steve introduced her and he nodded, but his eyes weren’t staring at her like she was a target. By the end of that night they were throwing insults back and forth.

Now he was her best friend.

“I’m worse, anyway,” she adds.

Bucky comes back with the bowl of salsa and puts it on the table but doesn’t sit down, watching Darcy hover around the couch.

“Lew, sit down.”

Darcy shakes her head, suddenly self-conscious. She feels like the odd one out but she can’t explain why.

“Hey, Darcy,” Sam says, giving the space between the two men a pointed look. “There.”

“Alright,” Darcy mumbles, and moves past Bucky to sit down and Bucky follows her.

There’s a re-run of _MASH_ and Darcy stares straight ahead, not really taking it in. Her thoughts are elsewhere, and then she senses Bucky putting his arm across the back of the couch above her.

She loves when men do that, stretch out beside a woman while they’re sitting. It’s one of her favourite things to do when she’s rarely had a boyfriend, just sit together and share a small space. Before she can stop herself, she pictures Bucky’s arm around her shoulders and drawing her toward him.

She’d be snug under his armpit with the welcoming warmth of his body against hers, his soft red Henley under her hand as she touched his chest and snuggled in close.

She lets out a sigh. She needs to get laid. She’s reaching that pathetic stage where any kind of male attention is giving her too many ideas.

“What advice do you need, Darce?” Sam says suddenly, and Darcy takes a bigger gulp of her martini than intended, her eyes widening. “You just have to be yourself, guys dig that.”

Darcy grimaced. “God, no. That’s my problem. I’m too fucking weird.”

Sam nods at Bucky on her other side. “What about him?”

“Fuck you,” Bucky whispers, but Darcy knows it’s just the way they banter.

“For guys it’s different,” Darcy retorts, and she gestures to Bucky as well. “And I don’t look like that.”

Sam scoffs. “Well, yeah. I mean, you’re a woman.”

“You know what I mean,” Darcy says, rolling her eyes.

All the main players in the Tower were on another level and she wasn’t mad about it. She got to look at all of them, even if she turns into a thirsty mess about it occasionally. She’s getting good at not drooling, but it took some getting used to for a while.

“I don’t,” Bucky murmurs, and Darcy feels his words go through her.

What does he mean? He’s a hundred so maybe his standards are skewed – but then, that doesn’t make much sense since he usually dates tall women and it’s tens, tens, tens across the board.

Darcy thinks of her last boyfriend who had a t-shirt with a tuxedo illustration on its front, and it was the only fancy thing she could get him to wear, and then she snorts.

“What?” Bucky says. He sighs. “I got you a guy’s number, so you’re good.”

Darcy hates thinking about that moment three days ago when he almost pushed her straight into the suit at a bar in the Upper East Side. Darcy only got into that bar because the bouncer was hypnotized by her chest. The whole thing felt icky but the point was that she did not belong in a place like that, trying to get someone like Adrian to give her the time of day.

“I have to go meet him tomorrow night at a restaurant and I’m like…. Help? Someone help?” Darcy says, nearly sloshing the remainder of her drink as she gesticulated her anxiety. “I need an adult.”

Bucky shakes his head, a small smile forming.

“Does the restaurant have music?” Sam asks, and Darcy shrugs.

“I dunno, it’s _Blatz_. Never heard of it.”

Sam’s eyes widen. “Oh. You will be dancing.”

Darcy thinks of the last text Adrian sent her about their date but she bites her lip, nothing vital surfacing. She takes out her phone and Sam watches her Google the place while Bucky watches _MASH_.

“It’s a _fucking nightclub_?” Darcy reads, disgusted. “Ugh. No. No. I refuse.”

She thinks of dancing after being in the labs all day tomorrow and winces. She finishes her drink and Sam chuckles.

“You can dance, it’s fine.”

Darcy pouts and Sam just chuckles.

While staring straight ahead, Bucky mutters:

“You wanted him, you go get him.”

Darcy narrows her eyes at the side of his face. His eyes swivel to hers and he blinks just the once. Darcy pokes his stomach without warning and he jolts.

“Hey!”

“You said you’d help me. Didn’t you used to go to dancehalls or whatever the fuck back in the Dark Ages?” Darcy sasses, prodding him again.

He doesn’t jump the second time but grabs her fingers with his flesh hand, squeezing in warning.

“Or did people just sit around, praying like –”

Darcy motioned crossing herself and placing her hands together.

“Dear God, can I have some good dick someday?”

She looks toward the Heavens and Bucky beside her says:

“I know that doesn’t work. I’ve tried.”

Darcy begins to laugh and she sees what he’s doing, he’s trying to disperse some of her anxiety. She places her hands in her lap and watches the rest of the _MASH_ episode with no further outbursts.

She waits until the credits to stand up, taking her empty martini glass with her as she goes back to the kitchen. She copies what Bucky did earlier and makes herself another martini, only to mess it up a little by adding too much gin all over again.

She walks back to the common room, sipping her drink for courage.

“Alright. I’m dancing,” she says, her hand out to Bucky, whose eyes widen at her. “Come on. Get up.”

“I’m watching this,” Bucky says, gesturing to the screen.

Sam just laughs. “Come on, man. Just do what the lady says.”

Darcy shoots him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Bucky waits a few seconds before he relents and gets up, hands up. He approaches her, his hands on her waist and Darcy smiles up at him.

“You happy?” he mutters, and Darcy nods.

“Extremely. Now, show me.”

“You never danced at prom?” Sam asks from his seat. He watches them while Bucky begins to move them in a small, slow circle.

“Sure I did, but it was less… rhythmic,” Darcy says. “White girl wasted, I should say.”

She barely remembers high school. It feels like a lifetime ago, and in a way it was. She was an entirely different person then, with such a small perspective of the world. She thinks her date was named Pat, but she could be wrong.

Darcy wraps her arms around Bucky’s neck because it’s what she thinks she should do, but Bucky shakes his head. Her arms slide down his chest uselessly and she blushes.

“On my shoulder or arms, Lew,” he murmurs, so she does that, trying to not look too intently at his stare.

“How was Kelly the other night?” Darcy asks Sam to change the subject.

“Good.”

“Did you…?” Darcy lets the question hang there.

“He did,” Bucky says.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Sam says. “’Cause it ain’t your business, Darcy.”

Darcy laughs, giving Bucky a quick glance.

“We’re perverts,” she stage-whispers. “Sam doesn’t like to _fuck and blab_.”

They keep moving in the circle and Darcy likes it. At least with Bucky she doesn’t feel like her dance partner will make a big deal about her two left feet. She gives him a soft smile, and moves a little closer until their hips touch.

“Is hugging okay?” Darcy murmurs, and Bucky nods.

“Except let me lead, would you?” he mutters, and Darcy blushes instantly despite her easiness just seconds ago.

“Jesus, okay. I just wanted to practice a little goddamn intimacy,” she says, shooting him another narrow-eyed glare. “It doesn’t kill you.”

Sam laughs so loudly so suddenly that Darcy jumps at the sound, Bucky’s hands gripping her a little tighter at the same time.

Sam doesn’t explain why he’s so amused but Darcy can guess. Bucky has a phone full of numbers, but there’s always someone new, someone else. She’s been the one talking him up to other women so many times that she knows a lot of it isn’t about actual romance.

She figures he’s making up for lost time. Being in captivity does that to people. She read about it in a few different biographies on other people like him, though she never talks about her personal research to Bucky. She feels like that’s a personal violation, because he only shares with her what he’s comfortable with.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky says, and then promptly dips her.

He’s the only thing keeping her from the floor and she feels herself tense up in fright. He won’t drop her by accident.

He stares into her eyes and Darcy’s stomach flips. She pictures him leaning in and kissing her, like in the movies. She wonders if he’s done that before, and how many times. How many women has he slept with?

She thinks of her own number, and maybe she’d have to write them down to remember. She doesn’t know what it means, that she wants to know for certain. Jane’s had a lot of boyfriends but that doesn’t matter to Darcy. Maybe she wants to know what she did wrong, that she’s alone and freezing up like this.

He wouldn’t drop her by accident, she trusts his reflexes and strength any day of the week. Instead, he does so deliberately, slowly, and Darcy’s on the carpet on her back, staring at the ceiling.

“The floor’s nice,” she murmurs.

She knows its odd behavior for someone else outside their friendship to witness, and she doesn’t think Sam will understand, but he just chuckles while Darcy stares at the ceiling.

She rolls onto her stomach, Bucky’s feet on either side of her as he watches her from above.

He moves back, dropping down to take her by the belt loop and pull her up, and she lets out a surprised laugh.

“Come on, bedtime,” he says, and she realizes then that he thinks she’s drunk, not overwhelmed by his closeness.

“Okay,” she says, because she can’t do arguing right now.

She takes her drink with her, giving Sam a little smile.

“Goodnight.”

“’Night, Darce.”

Sam is really nice. She wishes him every happiness in the world. She wishes she could just be normal around handsome people, less awkward and whiny.

Bucky walks her out, his hand on the small of her back as they step inside the elevator.

Darcy sips her drink, thinking of tomorrow night and trying to be herself somehow without giving too much away.

“Don’t sleep with him,” Bucky says suddenly, after a long silence between them.

“What?”

“Not right away. Make him work for it,” he says, and Darcy blinks at him.

She just nods, taking another steady sip. She finishes her drink as they reach her floor, and Bucky’s taking her key card to let them in.

He takes her jacket and Darcy considers telling him she’s sober enough but he’s fussing over her and it feels nice. It feels good to have someone look after her.

Her martini glass is left behind in her messy kitchen when she walks down the hall to her bedroom and Bucky flips on the light.

Her room’s a pigsty, clothes everywhere.

“Your floordrobe is looking good, as always,” he murmurs.

She taught him that word, _floordrobe_. She has more things on her floor than in her closets. Darcy’s bed is unmade as well and she walks over to it, falling on it, bouncing a little.

He pulls the blanket over her and Darcy rubs her face in her pillow, groaning a little. So maybe she did overdo it a little, but she’s not exactly white girl wasted.

He sits down on her bed, looking around her room with his back to her.

“Buck?”

He’s thinking too much. That always makes her worry. She reaches out to touch his flesh hand and Bucky looks down at her hand.

“Is it Siberia?”

“No,” he replies softly, and he doesn’t sound like he’s lying.

She wants to touch him again, on his back, but under his shirt. She wants to touch his skin and Darcy feels something stir inside her at the realization.

She aches.

He glances at her, pulling his hand away from hers to touch her face.

“Anyway,” he murmurs. “Night, Lew.”

She doesn’t reply, just closes her eyes. She wonders if he watches her fall asleep, because the second she opens her eyes again her room is dark and Bucky is gone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you.... know how hard it is to restrain myself with these two? 
> 
> P.S. I am having way too much fun writing the dialogue in this fic. Help.
> 
>  
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	3. Part Three: Adrian

_Quiet when I'm coming home and I'm on my own_  
_I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that_

\- "when the party's over" by Billie Eilish

 

 

**Part Three: Adrian**

 

 

 

Darcy bites her lip in front of her mirror. The sun had just set and she’s holding two coat-hangers with two different dresses on them, one red and one blue.

The red one is low-cut and hugs her hips too much. It’s probably a size too small, but its shiny and matches various shades of lipstick. The blue one is better, but Adrian might not react with as much enthusiasm.

She thinks of Bucky warning her not to have sex with this guy straight away. She mulls last night over again, remembering Bucky sitting on her bed with his back to her.

She sighs, picking up her phone from her bed and unlocking it. Today was perfectly boring and she hadn’t seen him at all.

_Penny for your thoughts?_

She types and sends the text, and then places her dresses down on the bed and takes a photo of them lying next to each other. She sends that as well.

There are no grey bubbles to indicate he’s texting back. Usually he’s pretty fast at that. She bites her lip again and waits.

She sees the time and throws her phone down, walking off toward her bathroom to shower. She knows if she tries really hard she’ll look awkward, but she can’t go to dinner and that nightclub with Adrian looking like her more rumpled, bespectacled work version of herself.

She hasn’t worn her contacts in a while and they’re awkward to put it but then she’s fine. She puts on a little makeup and grabs the blue dress because she won’t feel too constricted. She grabs her phone and sees no text from Bucky.

Adrian is tall, tanned and bearded with blonde hair and a wide smile. When he sees Darcy in the street, her hair down and her eyes bright with anticipation he lights up. They didn’t talk much in person the last few days but they’ve been texting.

“Hi, you made it,” he says, and he leads her toward the front door of Blatz.

“Yeah. We’re not dancing first?”

She tries to sound less like a kid with her voice, tries lowering it to something easier to swallow. She hates the whine it can have, the shriek if she gets too drunk.

Adrian laughs and Darcy can sense he’s nervous since she didn’t think she was that funny. He laughs more when they grab a little booth, at something lame she says about New York Spring weather.

“I love your –”

Adrian gestures to her earrings, which are her little fake pearls. He’s trying to compliment her without saying she’s beautiful.

“Thanks,” she murmurs.

A waiter comes by to take their drink order and Darcy wants a beer, but watches Adrian to see what he says.

“Uh, whiskey neat,” he says. He says a brand name Darcy doesn’t know so she assumes it’s too expensive for her.

“Vodka tonic,” Darcy adds, a small smile on her face.

Adrian doesn’t allow for silence, but the club makes them yell a little to be heard anyway. Darcy keeps fidgeting but she tries not to show it.

“You from around here?” he asks.

Darcy shakes her head. “Bryn Mawr. You?”

“Staten Island.”

“Nice,” Darcy says, because it’s all she can think to say.

Why the hell did she agree to come here? Probably because she couldn’t quite wrap her head around going on yet another first date, with all those jitters and awkward moments.

She looks around the club and Adrian follows her gaze.

“I’ve never been here before,” he says, and Darcy stares at him.

“Me, neither.”

He begins to laugh. He’s very handsome. Darcy would not have struck up a conversation the other day with him without Bucky around. Darcy always went for safer, more ordinary guys.

“I thought this was your scene,” he says, and Darcy makes a confused face.

“No, it’s really not.”

The waiter puts down their drinks and Darcy begins to laugh as well. He wanted to take her here to impress her.

“You… you haven’t done this in a while?” she asks, right before he takes his first sip.

He takes a second to process the question, what it means. He puts down his glass, leaning a little closer to her with the table between them.

“That obvious?”

“You’re divorced?” Darcy says by why of answering, and he nods.

He doesn’t seem upset, just a little embarrassed. Darcy feels for him – her own parents split up when she was little.

“How long?”

“About eight months,” he replies, and Darcy shakes her head.

“I mean, how long were you married?”

“Ten years.”

So that meant more than ten years he hadn’t dated anyone knew. That was a long time. She nods again, finally taking her drink and sipping it. She thinks of something else, but Adrian answers her question before she has a chance to ask it.

“I have two kids.”

“Oh,” she says.

This was a lot of information to divulge in such a short amount of time. She sees him watching her, looking to see if he’s blown it already.

“What are their names?” Darcy asks, and his face changes, slackens into something more relaxed.

“Jordan and Matthew,” he says.

Darcy smiles a little. They fall silent, drinking and watching people around them dancing and getting drinks. Darcy’s eyes swing back to Adrian’s face.

“Can we go somewhere else?” she asks, and he looks relieved.

-

They walk through Manhattan, Darcy’s arm in his.

He tells her about his sons, how they’re a lot to handle all the time but since the divorce his youngest, Matthew, has gone quiet.

“He’s sort of balling himself up,” he says, and Darcy nods.

“Does he have someone to talk to?” she asks.

“I only see them every second weekend,” he replies. “My ex doesn’t want a shrink trying to turn Mattie against her.”

Darcy frowns, and Adrian opens his mouth, shaking his head.

“She’s not… she’s not that bad. She’s just stressed out.”

They get hotdogs and sit on a bench. Darcy’s careful to not eat too fast or be sloppy. She watches Adrian with curiosity. Does he come across as a dad? He seems soft, and not as scary as Darcy thought he’d be.

“I liked this,” she says, and he looks up from his food.

“Really? Despite my poor choice of venue?” he says, smiling.

“We made up for it,” she replies.

She thinks about kissing him, what that would be like. Why was the bar always so low before? He seems like a great guy, and he seems happy to be around her.

They throw away their napkins and he smiles at her, and they fall into step once more.

“How was work today?” he asks.

She only shared with him that she works, not where or with whom.

“Good,” she replies. “Kinda boring. My boss Jane needed some data entry done and I was behind.”

“Sat in front of your computer all day?” he asks, and she nods.

“I, uh. I work for SHIELD,” she says.

She tried out the sentence earlier in her head but it never sounded right. Adrian’s eyebrows hike and he looks at her differently.

“Really? _Wow_ ,” he says, and he sounds genuine. “I’m guessing you can’t tell me much.”

“No, that spy stuff is tricky.”

“I should call you Moneypenny,” he says, and Darcy gives him a sidewards glance. “Or not.”

She pretends to glare but it turns into her laughing and he smiles at her. She notices he has laughlines.

“What about you?” she nudges him with her elbow. “How was work?”

“The firm’s newest client is a pain in the ass, frankly,” he says.

A New York City lawyer _and_ he’s a dad _and_ he’s super handsome. Darcy wants to grab his hand and pull him toward her but she just smiles at him as if she knows how he feels, like she’s dated lawyers before.

He talks more about it, how he spent all day reading reports for the case. He rubs his eyes a little at the end and suppresses a yawn.

“Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Darcy murmurs.

They pause near the end of a block and Darcy turns to him, waiting.

“I really had a good time, even though I’m rusty,” he said.

She gives a little snort, and feels herself blush at the graceless sound. He just chuckles at her, putting out a hand to hail a taxi.

A cab pulls up within ten seconds, the fastest Darcy’s ever seen it happen. She stares at him, the way his coat hangs on his body. He’s wearing a tie, albeit partially loosened.

“Call me?” he says, and Darcy nods.

He opens the door for her and she steps of the curb. She turns her head at the last second and tilts her head toward his, their lips brushing. His hand comes to rest on her shoulder, squeezing.

Darcy moves back, and her stomach flips as their eyes meet.

The cab guy suddenly yells out:

“Hey, lady – are you done?”

-

Darcy wanders into the common room, her shoes in her hand. The TV is on but there’s no-one sitting on the couch.

She checks her phone and sees no reply. The text she sent earlier is marked seen and Darcy frowns.

She takes the elevator to Bucky’s floor and knocks on his door and waits. She puts her ear to the door and hears nothing. No-one seems to be home.

There was one other place. She takes the elevator up again. She braces herself for the cool air of the night and walks out onto the roof, and spots Bucky with his back to her.

The door slams behind her and she knows he’s heard her but he doesn’t turn around.

“Hey, Buck…?”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, doesn’t ask him why he’s up there. She just walks over to him and crouches. He’s sitting on a chair.

She has no idea how long the chair has been there but it always has been since Darcy moved in years ago. She checks him and sees his eyes are red and his face is wet.

He’s been crying.

“Hey, Lew,” he murmurs. His voice is raspy. He blinks a couple times with a loud sniff. He looks down at her properly. “You wore the blue one.”

She nods, touching his metal hand.

“You look really beautiful,” he adds.

Her stomach flips and she swallows, averting her gaze. She takes his hand in hers and presses her lips to the palm of him, the cool metal against her skin. She looks back up and Bucky’s throat bobs.

“How’d the date go?”

She stands up, looking at her bare feet.

“Fine.”

“He nice?”

“Yeah,” she replies. She glances at the sky for a second before allowing herself to see him again. “He’s really sweet.”

 They fall into silence and Bucky sniffs again, wiping his face with one hand roughly. Darcy hasn’t seen him like this in a little while. He doesn’t cry like her. He does his best not to react to his own tears, he doesn’t sob or whimper at all like her. Darcy is an ugly crier. Bucky just looks like stone.

“Bucky, what happened?” she murmurs, crossing her arms.

“Flashback,” he replies. “I just… it fucked up my whole day, I dunno.”

He lets out a short laugh lacking mirth as he shakes his head.

Darcy knows he’s doing better than before, and maybe he’ll always have his bad days. But it doesn’t stop her from worrying, from wishing she could do something to take a way.

“What can I do?”

“Nothing, it’s… nothing,” he replies, shaking his head some more. “I might go out. Go find a club somewhere…”

He clears his throat and Darcy frowns.

“To -?”

Before she can ask her stupid question it hits her. He wants to find some girl to get the feeling out of his system.

She snaps her mouth shut and nods, feeling like a child. She has no idea what he’s been through, and she can’t fool herself into thinking she’d be able to change anything.

She wants to reach out but she knows he’s not a hugger. Instead, she moves toward him as he stands to touch the space between his neck and shoulder, squeezing it to tell him she’s there.

He pats her hand a couple times. Darcy pulls away and follows him back to the elevator, picking up her shoes that she put on the ground on her way out.

“What’s it like?” he asks, as she presses the elevator button.

She glances at him, and he nods at her shoes in her hand.

“Living life being that short all the time?”

“Fuck off,” she replies, laughing.

He smiles at her and she feels the tension in her chest dissipate.

When they’re riding down to Darcy’s floor she meets his gaze.

“You’re wondering if I got lucky.”

She doesn’t talk about this stuff with Bucky that often. It feels weird whenever they do, like she’d rather not share that information with him. She’d rather anyone else in the world, including her grandma would ask her about her sex life.

Bucky touches the back of his head.

“I wasn’t asking…”

“But you’re wondering.”

He shakes his head. “Good Lord.”

She laughs louder than he expects at that.

“You are so offended!” she says, slapping his arm. “You’re about to go find some A-grade puntang and I’m meant to not tell you if I hooked up with –”

“I’m getting the feeling that _ya didn’t_ , ‘cause I’m hearing too much about it, Lew,” he retorts, staring her down with those intense blue eyes of his.

Her eyes widen slightly.

“And please never refer to it as _puntang_ ever again,” he adds.

He looks somewhat pleased with himself. They reach her floor before Darcy has a chance to retort. He all but pushes her out of the elevator, his arm blocking the doors as she gives a yelp of protest.

“Hey!” She slaps away his other arm, indignant. “So what if you’re right? You told me not to sleep with him on the first date.”

His face changes at that, the teasing glint to his eyes gone. His gaze dips to her dress once more and Darcy swallows.

“You are _so_ Catholic,” she snaps.

“And _you_ shouldn’t follow my advice,” he retorts, and Darcy narrows her eyes at him.

The elevator keeps trying to close on his metal arm and they glare at one another for several seconds before Darcy looks away, her eyes already dry from her contact lenses.

“Where are you going?” she asks suddenly, and he blinks. “I’ll come with you.”

“No,” he says immediately.

She rolls her eyes.

“Protective brotherly instincts kicking in, bud?”

She flashes a teasing smile he doesn’t return. He pulls back, the doors about to close.

“I don’t think I’d call it that,” he says, and the doors shut a second later.

Darcy closes her eyes, sighing.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, these two are a mess. I'm sorry. 
> 
>  
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	4. Part Four: I feel better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)

_'Cause if I don't have you, I will starve_

_There's a wolf in my heart for you_

\- "You Are The Wilderness" by Voxhaul Broadcast

 

 

 

**Part Four: I feel better**

 

 

Darcy is handed a lilac envelope with her name on the front in gold embossed lettering. The delivery guy gives her two others with Jane and Bruce’s names on the front.

Darcy signs for them, narrowing her eyes slightly and the guy shrugs.

“Thanks,” Darcy says, tearing into her own envelope as she walks over to Jane who is sitting at a long table covered in papers.

Darcy’s boss is scrawling away, looking down at an open book and then writing some more. Darcy tries to remember where Bruce is and then she recalls he’s gone to get a pot of tea for himself despite her offering to do it for him. The good Doctor Banner is still really bad at letting her look after him even though it’s her job.

It’s a small card with palm fronds decorating its borders and she makes a face as she reads. Jane opens her envelope more precisely with a butter knife that’s semi clean.

“‘Anthony Stark and Virginia Potts wish to invite you to their upcoming nuptials, which will be taking place in the Maldives –‘” Jane’s reading is cut off by Darcy.

“See, I forget her name isn’t actually Pepper. Virginia who?”

Jane pauses, shaking her head. “It’s in six weeks.”

“So those save the date cards were completely bullshit,” Darcy mutters, tossing her card aside.

She has another thought, clicking her fingers.

“Pepper’s pregnant.”

“She’s not,” Jane says. “I saw her drinking wine last week.”

“Did you see her actually drink it, though?” Darcy asks, and Jane frowns.

“I… don’t know,” she finally says.

She puts down her own invitation and gets back to work. She’s quickly absorbed in her work once more but Darcy looks at the clock on her phone. Still a couple hours until quitting time.

She sits down at her desk, thinking about the last time she went somewhere out of town. She went back home for the Christmas before last, but she only managed to stay until dessert and was dragged back to New York because Jane had another breakthrough.

At least she was getting paid nowadays. Her family didn’t understand why she was so invested in an unpaid internship for years and Darcy never felt like anyone outside of her bubble would truly understand.

She checks the card and sees there’s the _plus one_ beneath her name and she thinks of Adrian. Would that be too soon? They’d only be seeing each other two weeks.

“You’re thinking about him, huh?”

“I’m getting ahead of myself,” Darcy says, relieved Jane is still capable of reading her mind while occupied with work.

Jane looks up, shaking her head. “I don’t think he’ll be invited.”

Darcy tilts her head, confused. “It _says_ plus one, he can be my plus – wait, we’re talking about Adrian, right?”

“I was talking about Bucky,” Jane replies, capping her pen. “I thought you’d go with him.”

Darcy makes a face at that. “No… we’re not that pathetic. He can get a date. And he got me a date, so –”

Her heart sinks a little. If everyone is invited except for Bucky, he’ll be all alone that weekend of the wedding, blaming himself for everything that isn’t his fault. Darcy knew recovery was non-linear but he could have a serious derailment.

Jane looks at her notes but Darcy knows she’s thinking something over, not reading her papers. Whenever Bucky comes up Jane gets the same look on her face. It’s concern, a kind of protectiveness she knows Darcy doesn’t always appreciate. Jane can sometimes be condescending despite having the best of intentions.

“What is it?” Darcy murmurs.

“He drags you down sometimes,” Jane says. Darcy can tell each word was chosen delicately, but it still makes her hackles rise up, and she wants to rush to Bucky’s defense.

“He isn’t toxic,” she snaps, and Jane shoots her a hard look.

“I didn’t say that,” she hissed. “I’d never say that. But he’s hard for you to deal with, and you can’t be there to rescue him.”

“What about Thor?” Darcy snaps, waving her arm around. “You run around for him all the time, and I see you beside yourself with worry –”

“That’s not the same, Darcy,” Jane says, her voice quieter. “He never murdered anyone for HYDRA.”

Darcy sets her jaw. “Right. Good to know. I’ll make a note of that, since I had no idea.”

She turns her heel and stalks out of the labs, seeing Bruce on his way back. His eyes widen at her but Darcy walks on, practically punching the elevator button while she waits.

When she steps inside the elevator, she considers hitting the button for Tony’s penthouse. She could persuade him to invite Bucky along, as a favour. Darcy thinks of how to argue her way into that, and every idea stops short. Tony would trump her every time, and then he could call her ungrateful.

She’d never fought with the billionaire but she’d seen it happen often enough with Jane when he irritated her. Occasionally he invited himself to the labs and acted like he owned the place, which technically he does but Jane didn’t appreciate another man trying to control her science-ing.

She presses the button for the lobby instead and checks her phone, wondering if she could forget her frustrations for a little while.

Adrian picks up after a few rings and he sounds pleased to hear from her. They made out last time she saw him, his hand under her shirt, skirting across the skin of her stomach. She wonders how much she should restraint herself.

“Can I come over?” she asks, and his voice goes quiet on his end.

“Are you sure?” he murmurs. They didn’t really talk about sex. Nothing too flirty ever happens in his texts. He’s not exactly with the times, prefers calling her, and prefers saying things to her face.

“Yeah, I want to.”

When she hangs up, she feels the rush of anticipation. Restraining herself around him has been a drag. She’ll ride him until her knees are sore, until she screams if she wants to.

She gets a bottle of his favorite whiskey and comes back to the Tower. She doesn’t feel like going back to the labs so she doesn’t, instead going up to the roof.

She realizes her mistake when she reaches the top of the building, pushing the door open to step outside. She should have called Bucky, asked where he was.

And if he was alone.

Darcy freezes, staring at the two people wrapped up in each other with the sun starting to set behind them. Darcy doesn’t take in the beautiful shades of pink, the simplistic beauty of nature mixed with the skyscrapers around them.

Bucky has a girl on his lap, kissing her with his eyes closed. It’s so intimate Darcy glances away, forgetting that the door would slam if she didn’t catch it. She’s too late, and the bang rings out, and the girl draws back in surprise, spotting Darcy there.

“Sorry,” Darcy murmurs.

She can’t look at Bucky. Something about the idea of that is unbearable in that moment. Her cheeks burn and she looks at the blonde girl instead.

She’s the same one from Minotaur. He must have gone back and found her somehow. Darcy swallows, forcing a little smile.

“I was leaving,” the girl says. She moves off of Bucky, walking toward Darcy.

Darcy feels stupid. She was worried about the Maldives and having to deal with Bucky’s self-loathing when he seemed to be doing just fine. Better than fine. The girl looks like a long-lost Hadid sister and she gives Darcy a small smile before disappearing back inside.

Bucky’s back is to her and he sighs, not looking behind him.

“Did I interrupt something?” Darcy asks, trying her best teasing lilt.

She manages to walk over to him, her stomach twisting as she sees him kissing that girl over and over in her head.

She walks to the ledge and sets the whiskey bottle on top of it, finally looking at Bucky.

He seems different, less bristled with every passing second. He’s not hunched and brooding. He’s watching the sun set and he seems the closest thing to okay.

He seems satisfied.

“No,” he murmurs. “She was here most of the afternoon.”

She doesn’t doubt that for a second. She wonders if he’s the type to go more than one round in a day. She hates thinking of him that way but she’s sure if she leaned too close to him he’d smell of that girl, all along his skin.

“Tony sent out invites to his wedding,” Darcy says. She picks up the bottle sitting on the ledge and undoes it, popping the top of it and putting it to her lips.

She takes a swig and feels the burn down her throat. She doesn’t like whiskey. She corks it again and watches Bucky’s face.

“I heard.”

“I’ll talk to him about it,” Darcy says. “You deserve to go. You’re as part of this place as me. Doesn’t make sense that he’d exclude you –”

“I killed his parents, Lew,” he says, his eyes snapping to hers.

Darcy wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and shakes her head.

“That wasn’t you.”

She’s had this conversation at least a hundred times with him. She knows exactly how it goes every time, and she wonders why she bothers still.

Because he matters. Bucky matters, and she wants him to feel okay. That thought makes her stomach twist again.

“I want you to go,” she adds. She can still feel his eyes on her but she’s looking at the ground. “So I’ll march into Tony’s office tomorrow and tell him –”

“You shouldn’t,” Bucky says, and Darcy’s eyes meet his.

He doesn’t seem sad at all. She blinks.

“Why?”

“Because I got an invitation, Lew,” he says. Then he smirks.

Darcy feels that lick of anger she felt earlier toward Jane. Her cheeks burn once more as she glares at him, her hands balling into fists.

“Then why did you let me get so worked up about it?” she snaps, her voice rising.

“I wanted to see what you’d do,” he says, and he glances at the sunset once more.

She keeps glaring at him, lost for words. She wants to hit him, shove at him or something to make herself feel less foolish.

“I hate you,” she snarls, and his eyes swing back to hers.

She snatches the bottle and stalks toward the exit. Jane’s right – sometimes he brings her down, and sometimes she doesn’t appreciate being made fun of.

“I hate you, too,” he calls, and she growls under her breath.

-

Darcy knocks on Adrian’s door around 8 o’clock. She only waits a few seconds before he opens the door, beaming at her from above.

“Hey,” she says, and leans up to kiss him.

She runs her tongue along the seam of his lips and he lets her in, one of her hands up to grab him by the hair. He groans a little against her and Darcy smiles when she pulls back.

She kicks the door shut behind them and holds up the whiskey.

“Thank you,” he says, taking it from her.

He puts it down near his keys in the hallway and turns back to her, bringing her into another kiss.

Darcy figures this is kind of a booty call, but he doesn’t seem mad about it. He leads her to the bedroom and Darcy’s hands go for his belt buckle.

“Darcy,” he gasps, when her hand is in his pants and stroking him to life.

She’s acting. She knows she’s not herself. She’s trying to take charge, to see what he likes. He seems very happy that she’s touching his cock, that she’s so enthusiastic about his body.

They shuffle back to the bed and she falls down, landing under him and pulling down her leggings and underwear.

“I was hoping I could,” he murmurs, kissing her neck.

“Next time,” she says. “I just want you.”

She isn’t wet enough. It hurts a little at first but she likes how he feels, how he makes her feel wanted. She doesn’t fake any of her moans, though she was hoping he’d be better after being married so long.

He doesn’t touch her clit. Maybe he’s just trying not to come.

Darcy knows she’s not really there. Adrian’s eyes are hazel but she sees blue. She knows his arms are both flesh but she imagines running her fingers along a left arm made of metal plates.

“Darcy,” he murmurs, and she blinks. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just – I’m a space cadet,” she replies, shaking her head. She tries laughing about it but she can’t stop her heart feeling battered inside her chest.

Their mouths slant together once more and he lasts a couple more minutes, spilling inside the condom and panting in her ear.

Darcy’s not disappointed. She just thought this would feel different, better.

Darcy gets up to pee and clean up. She returns to his side on the bed and she rolls onto her side. Adrian falls asleep and she looks around, trying to feel more comfortable.

She sits up, wincing because she definitely was not wet enough and she might pay for it for several hours. She finds her phone on the floor and looks at her texts.

_When you get back come watch Star Wars_

Bucky’s first text to her in days and she feels the irritation rise up in her. She starts off an angry reply, more or less telling him to go fuck himself but she pauses, wondering what good that would do.

She wipes the message and starts over.

_I’m at Adrian’s_

She sees the bubbles appear immediately, and she feels her heart beat faster. There’s a hope that comes from seeing Bucky actually paying attention to her.

_How do you feel?_

Why would he ask that? She stares at the words. He knows she slept with him. The truth is, she feels empty. Almost lonely.

She feels wrong.

“Fuck,” she whispers. She glances at Adrian beside her. He’s fast asleep. He must have worked another long day and she was enough to make him crash.

She takes a deep breath.

_Frustrated._

She waits, wondering what he might text back. Maybe some snide comment, or even him pretending to be oblivious to her predicament, which was her lack of an orgasm tonight.

She thinks Bucky’s stopped for the night because he takes a couple minutes, but then the bubbles appear again and her heart hammers just the same.

_That’s too bad. But you’re a big girl, you’ll know what to do._

She stares. Given any other context, his text could be interpreted as brotherly advice. He could be a friend telling her she’d pull through of something at work. But this is her personal life, and Darcy can’t shake the idea Bucky might be trying to give her.

She swallows, then bites her lip. He could write her off if she replies wrong. He could ignore her forever, shut her out.

_Are you saying I should play with myself?_

She sends it and starts to tremble. She might never live this down. She doesn’t have to wait long for a reply.

_Yes._

Just one word, three letters. It’s enough to make her snake a hand down her front and get to it, finding her clit and circling it. She bites her lip and closes her eyes, her phone falling beside her on the bed.

She should be thinking of Adrian beside her, like what if he woke up to see her like this? But she doesn’t – she thinks of Bucky on the roof, Bucky with his face so close to hers when he dipped her in the common room.

She comes hard, shuddering her whole body as she holds her breath. She pants, trying to keep her breaths quiet enough not to wake Adrian and she feels sweat all over her.

She turns to her side, grabbing her phone. Only a few minutes have passed.

She could blame being drunk if he ever teases her about tonight, if this ever somehow is brought up. It’s mortifying, but she texts him:

_I feel better._

She pushes her phone away, closes her eyes and tries to sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [me rn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rFeVfwDvTyM)


	5. Part Five: I never had a doubt

_It's on the edge of emotional_  
_I see that look in your eyes_  
_Heartbeats get in the way_

\- "The Trouble With Us" by Chet Faker & Marcus Marr

 

 

**Part Five: I never had a doubt**

 

 

Darcy doesn’t know how to act.

 She knows striving for nonchalance would never work. She has no poker face to speak of. She returns from Adrian’s the night she first sleeps with him and goes straight to her room.

She doesn’t see Bucky for a week. She avoids, diverts, whatever. She doesn’t get a single text and thinks it’s a sign.

When she’s brave enough, she goes to the common room still wearing her work clothes, a bag of Doritos in hand.

She passes them to Bucky and sits beside him, biting off one of the chips with a loud crunch. Several Avengers are hanging around – Wanda, Natasha, Steve and Sam are all deep in conversation. Darcy’s eyes meet Bucky’s and he looks happy to see her, his face softer under her steady gaze.

“What’s up?” she mumbles, mouth full.

“Deciding on a movie,” he murmurs. He’s still watching her face as she glances around to listen to the options.

“ _Die Hard_ ,” Natasha offers. “Since none of you listened to my last suggestion.”

“A director is not a suggestion. You have to be specific,” Sam retorts, shaking his head. “It would be like picking a continent instead of a dish from said continent.”

“You mean, like, Europe instead of waffles?” Darcy offers, and Sam shoots her a grateful look.

“Thank you, yes,” he says, turning back to Natasha. “So if you say Fincher you have to say either _Se7en_ , _Fight Club_ or –”

 “So if I said Hitchcock you’d throw the remote at me?”

“It’s a high possibility, Romanoff,” Sam says.

Natasha quirks her lips, glancing at Darcy.

“Favourite Hitchcock movie, Darcy?”

All eyes are suddenly on her and Darcy licks her lips self-consciously.

“I mean they’re all good…”

“They’re not,” Sam interjects, and she promptly flips him off for interrupting her.

“But my favourite is _Rear Window_ ,” she finishes.

Steve looks surprised. “Over _Psycho_?”

She remembers lending him a few Blu-Rays over the years, and _Psycho_ was one of them.

“Yeah. I mean, have you _seen_ Grace Kelly?” she adds, and everyone makes an affirmative sound.

Bucky chuckles beside her and she feels herself smile a little at the sound like he’s catching, and Natasha just nods at her.

“So, _Rear Window_?” Sam says finally, and everyone nods.

Wanda gets up, looking around. “Drinks? Drinks? Everyone good?”

Steve raises his empty bottle and joins her.

“I’ll help.”

When the movie is set up, the lights dimmed and the drinks are ready they start the movie, Darcy squashed between Bucky and Steve.

“Lew,” Bucky murmurs, and he tugs at her sleeve. “Move over.”

There was no room to move over. She realizes he’s pulling him toward her and she blushes at the idea of sitting on his lap.

Instead, she gets up and sits on Steve, making him grunt in surprise. Everyone is distracted and Darcy feels worse, wishing she’d just curled up on the floor like a cat.

“Lew, his balls,” Bucky whispers and Darcy’s eyes widen. He’s laughing but Darcy turns her head slightly to look at Steve and gives him an apologetic grimace.

“Sorry!”

“It’s all good, they’re fine,” he manages to reply, and then he’s laughing.

Everyone is laughing except Darcy and she can feel her face burning. She gives a little fake titter and tries to settle into watching the movie, Steve’s arm wrapped around her middle.

She loves Steve. She calls him Old Man, gives him things like slippers and crossword puzzles for Christmas. Occasionally they go to places to try new food he never had growing up and Darcy takes a lot of photos of him enjoying himself, his belly practically bottomless.

Her favourite adventure with Steve was the time Thor invited himself along and they went to a dumpling house with an all-you-can-eat buffet, and they had an impromptu dumpling eating contest. For a good twenty minutes Darcy and Steve were neck-and-neck, only to have Thor beat them by another dozen beef dumplings. When Steve finally tapped out ten minutes after Darcy conceded, Thor raised his arms in the air and yelled, “I AM VICTORIOUS!” Unfortunately, they were not allowed back since.

Darcy doesn’t think for a second that Steve would object to her perched on his lap, and no-one else has ever read into that. Steve was openly affectionate with all his female friends.

“Poor Steeb,” Wanda coos, stroking his cheek teasingly.

Darcy shifts and gets up, waving her hand at Sam when he offers to pause.

“Thirsty,” she mouths, and decides to take a walk to the kitchen.

She takes out her phone to see what Adrian is up to. Last time she checked he was stuck in another meeting and he wasn’t going to make it to their reservation uptown, hence why Darcy got Doritos for the movie night she heard about.

_Miss you_

She sends the text and goes to the fridge, looking around to see if there’s anything interesting left behind. Occasionally there’s some cake or cupcakes, but she remembers no-one had a birthday that week. She grabs a beer and turns around to see Bucky standing at the kitchen island, leaning against it on his elbows.

Darcy jumps, clutching her chest with wide eyes.

“ _Jesus_ , we talked about that,” she gasps.

He needs to make more noise when he walks. Maybe they needed to put a bell on him.

“Yeah, sorry, I forgot,” he replies, smiling a little. He’s not sorry at all.

Darcy goes to a drawer to find a bottle opener and takes it out instead of asking Bucky to do it for her like he usually does. It was probably why he followed her out here.

That’s what she tells herself when she takes a sip with their eyes glued to each other.

She smacks her lips, wishing she was ordering mozzarella sticks somewhere away from Bucky. She takes out her phone and sees Adrian’s replied already:

_That’s sweet_

“Are we gonna meet this guy one day?” Bucky asks, and Darcy looks up to see him reading her text upside down.

She puts her phone to her chest and narrows her eyes.

“Bullshit. I bet Natasha’s done a thorough background check,” Darcy retorts. “I bet she knows him better than his own mother.”

“You meet the parents yet?”

“No,” Darcy says. “I’m meeting his kids this weekend.”

The smallest surprise can be detected on Bucky’s face in the way he blinks at her. Darcy knows him too well.

“He’s got two of ‘em,” Darcy says, before taking another sip of her beer.

She’s tried not to think about it too much. She knows she’s nervous about it, since kids can be way too honest about they feel. She’s never had to consider being any kind of stepmother.

“You’ll be fine,” Bucky says, and Darcy gives him a pointed look. “You’ll be great. I meant you’d be great.”

“Of course I’ll be great,” Darcy mumbles. “I never had a doubt.”

She looks away, sighing a little. Being an adult sucks. She can’t understand ever wanting to be one as a kid. You feel the same way but you have shitty things you have to do to be considered normal or successful.

Darcy doesn’t feel like an adult. She feels like a fraud.

“Hey,” Bucky says suddenly, and he comes around to touch her shoulder. “You _are_ great. I’m not being a jackass.”

“It’s hard to tell,” she replies, her voice a sad mumble again. “Sometimes feel like all you’re doing is making fun of me.”

He frowns a little.

“Hey.”

They whip their heads toward Steve, who’s standing in the doorway.

“You guys coming back?”

“Yeah, punk,” Bucky replies, and he walks out the kitchen, leaving Darcy standing with her beer.

She swallows, feeling the same way she did a few days ago when she told him she hated him. It feels like a weight in her guts and she looks at the floor.

Steve comes over and Darcy shakes her head.

“We can talk about it,” he whispers, and she keeps refusing with her lips pressed together.

She can’t tell him what she’s feeling. She can’t name it, can’t give it more power than it already has over her. She just wants to hide and drink, which is never a good idea.

“How are your balls?” she asks, and Steve chuckles.

“They’re doing great, doll,” he replies, one of his big hands squeezing her shoulder.

“Great, I’m glad,” she whispers.

She meets his gaze and starts to cry, and his lips part in shock.

He pulls her into a tight hug, and she wants to stay there. She wants to freeze the moment. Her shoulders shake and Steve does his best to soothe her. She eventually pulls away, and he swipes tears away as she sniffles.

“You’re not gonna like what I have to say,” he says, and she groans.

“Then don’t say it.”

“You’re his best girl, okay?” he murmurs, kissing her forehead. “I promise.”

That has to be a lie. If she was so important to Bucky he would tell her every day. He would never have agreed to getting her a date. He would have asked her out himself.

She shakes her head, but Steve seems adamant.

“I’m nobody’s girl,” she mumbles, sniffing again.

He takes her beer from her and sips it, and Darcy gives him a look of shock hurt. She’s relieved that Steve knows to use humour to dissipate her angst.

“You wanna get gelato?” he asks, and Darcy tilts her head.

“Sure, as long as you don’t steal mine after stealing my beer.”

Steve takes another gulp of her drink. “Pfft.”

-

Jordan is almost her height. Adrian must have been one of those giant kids in his grade at school, since Jordan looks exactly like him.

“Hey!” he yells, and Darcy tenses automatically at the sharpness of his tone.

“Hi! I’m Darcy!” she replies, and Adrian laughs.

Darcy stood from the park bench as the three of them came over, pushing up her sunglasses to rest them on her head. Adrian seems happy, but Matthew is looking at the ground, a soccer ball under his short arm.

“Hey,” Darcy says to Matthew, and he glances at her hands that she has clasped together.

She’s way more nervous than she thought she would ever be. She wants so badly for these small humans to accept her. She’s only been with Adrian a month but he’s already taught her so much about himself and the life she could have with him.

He has structure, but he’s soft all over. She knows that he wants his kids to be happy above all things, and his job almost cost his relationship with them. It’s what makes Adrian so apologetic when he misses their dates. It’s only happened twice but Darcy has learned what Adrian’s ex already knows – his career eats up the rest of his life.

Matthew turns away with the ball and races toward the grass, Jordan following after him. Adrian lets out a sigh and Darcy tries not to show that she’s affected.

“He’s probably just nervous,” she says, but Adrian shakes his head.

“He got suspended this week.”

Darcy’s eyes widen. “What? He’s in the third grade.”

“He knocked a kick’s tooth out for taking his pencil from his desk,” Adrian says. He shrugs, shaking his head. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t – I can’t keep up with this shit.”

Darcy knows he rarely cusses in public so she knows it’s a bad sign, and she rubs his arm.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not _okay_ ,” Adrian snaps, and Darcy’s hand falls to her side, useless. “I’m either working myself to the bone for child support or I’m hearing about the things I miss from Helen. And then I’m _trying_ to keep up with you –”

Darcy looks away, watching the boys in the distance playing, kicking the ball back and forth. She tunes Adrian out, until he says her name three times over.

“What?”

“I said, maybe it’s too soon for you to meet them.”

Darcy blinks at him. She suddenly feels tired.

“Maybe.”

They lapse into silence and Adrian sighs. He rubs his face. He seems tired, too.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “It’s not your fault.”

“I _know_ it’s not my fault,” Darcy says, a little harsher than either of them expected.

Adrian just stares at her as she turns her head away, beginning to walk toward the boys. She doesn’t want to comfort Adrian, but show him instead that she can be dedicated to his kids as well. She can be part of the equation, not the solution at the end.

The solution is everything melding together. She doesn’t address the boys, instead she waits for Jordan to take the hint and pass her the soccer ball.

She’s clumsy but enthusiastic, which makes Matthew take notice. She’s not going to make today about her, she’s not going to nag anyone about suspensions.

She remembers she is a fraud, but maybe that can help her every once in a while, because what people tend to assume about Darcy is that she’s limited. She understands children better than most people.

She passes to Matthew. He passes back. She knows Adrian is watching, but she’s more focused on the two boys in front of her for the next few minutes, until she looks over her shoulder at Adrian, who’s smiling at her.

“Dad, you gonna come over here, or just watch?” she calls.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the humour was a little much this chapter but I had to break up the angst somehow and believe me, I needed it. Writing characters going through inner turmoil usually takes a toll on me as well. I feel too much for fictional people, soz
> 
> P.S. I don't meant to be vague but there is a lot of subtext here!
> 
>  
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr)


	6. Part Six: I can't

_I love you so much_   
_Never forget_   
_All of our secrets_   
_Coming undone_   
_What a beautiful state_   
_We are in_

\- "Goodnight Bad Morning" by The Kills

 

 

**Part Six: I can't**

 

 

Darcy’s sitting on the floor of Adrian’s apartment, her legs crossed as she reads the IKEA instructions in her lap.

She points to a new piece and Jordan grabs it from the floor, the Allen key in one hand as Matthew sits beside Darcy, cookie in his mouth.

“Provisions?” she says to the younger boy, and Matthew puts another cookie in her hand, and she smiles at him. “Thank you.”

They’re putting together a new desk for Jordan and Matthew to use for homework. Adrian is in the middle of negotiating visitation rights, and if it goes to plan the boys will be there every weekend, including Friday nights.

Adrian was still at the office that night. Darcy was more than happy to step in and babysit while they waited for him. The IKEA was delivered a couple days ago and Darcy figures it will eat up some time before she decides what to have for dinner.

“Why didn’t Dad get someone to do this?” Jordan mutters, twisting the Allen key over and over, huffing. He’s a ball of energy, grabbing and twisting, vigorous as hell.

“It’s not free, and neither was the delivery,” Darcy replies, and Matthew exchanges a look with his brother.

Darcy realizes she shouldn’t mention money around them, swallowing the last bit of her cookie too hard, making her throat feel tight. She picks up her glass of Chardonnay and sips it to ease her throat, shaking her head at the boys.

“It’s no big deal. I told him we’d do it, no problem,” she says. That’s a lie. This was meant to be a surprise for Adrian after another long workday.

This is only her second Saturday with his kids but they’ve warmed up to her, and she doesn’t feel as if she’s about to be called a usurper.

Jordan makes a show of wiping the pretend sweat from his head, leaning back on his skinny butt to gaze at his handiwork.

“Quitting time?” Darcy says, and he nods. “I’ll finish it later.”

She orders pizza. She can’t recall if the boys have allergies and asks them, both of them shrugging at her.

They push the pieces of the desk aside and turn on the TV, watching _Finding Nemo_ while they eat. Darcy has more wine, occasionally checking her phone’s time. She tries not to openly sigh, because then the boys would see another female figure annoyed with their dad because Adrian is trying, he really is.

Her phone pings and Jordan shoots her a curious look, and she points to the TV screen.

“Eyes up front, mister.”

Jordan laughs, looking away while Darcy reads the text from Bucky.

_Debate between Sam and Wanda. Oreos or Pop Tarts?_

She gives a small smile, beginning to type back.

_Depends on flavors._

Bucky replies almost instantly:

_That’s what I told them you’d say. They want your expertise._

Darcy feels her stomach flip. He thought of her. He knows her well enough. She swallows, thinking of what to reply. To her surprise, Bucky sends another text unprompted:

_Are you back tonight?_

In that instant, she knows she wishes she was, but she promised Adrian she’d stay the night. But he promised he’d be home for dinner and he was hours late.

She’s not mad. It’s fine. It’s _fine_.

She doesn’t reply to Bucky. He probably saw her try to type a reply before erasing it but he doesn’t send her another text. She hopes he gets off her mind soon, before Adrian comes home.

 _Finding Nemo_ ends and Darcy puts on an episode of _Shaun the Sheep_ for Matthew even though Jordan makes a show of rolling his eyes into the back of his head, collapsing on the carpet.

“I died. I died of boredom!” he yells, and Darcy shushes him, but her authority is challenged by her own giggles.

By the time the episode ends, it’s really past their bedtime and Darcy puts the leftover pizza away, rounding them up to brush their teeth. She takes another half an hour to get the boys settled and she can see they’re used to Adrian not being there. They don’t need to be comforted as she tucks them both in.

Matthew turns out to be an angel, squeezing Darcy’s hand in his for a second and whispering:

“I like you staying with us.”

Darcy is touched, exiting their little room they share to go back to the couch. She turns the volume way down and waits another two hours before Adrian gets back. She’s polished off the wine by the time she hears the rattle of keys in the door.

She knows she’s drunk, and she knows Adrian can see it when he walks over to her. When she kisses him hello he pulls back at the taste of her on his lips.

“Christ, Darcy.”

She feels immediate shame. It’s like grease down her throat, settling in her guts. He’s ashamed of her being this way. Sure, she probably could have paced herself better but it’s the weekend and she’s in a safe place.

Her cheeks heat at his words and she draws back, settling further into the couch. He glances at the half-done desk taking up most of the living room floor.

“What the hell happened here?”

“I was meant to surprise you,” Darcy says, her voice small. “For when you got back.”

Adrian glances at her. “I’m not attacking you.”

“I… didn’t think you were,” she replies slowly. She tilts her head, trying to read him.

He’s stressed. He’s pissed off because he’s stressed. He’s pissed off with himself for blowing off his kids again. She doesn’t want this to turn into an argument.

He lets out a sigh. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” she replies. Her voice is small.

She looks at her shoes on the floor and swallows.

“I’m gonna go.”

Adrian looks concerned.

“Darcy, please stay. I’m sorry,” he starts, but she shakes her head, retrieving the shoes.

She pulls them on, her fingers a little clumsy. She feels exhausted, and she doesn’t want to be there. She was fine before with his kids, in fact, she was in her element with Jordan and Matthew. But being there with Adrian suddenly feels totally unappealing.

He touches her arm as she stands up.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, I believe you,” she murmurs. “I just want to go home.”

Before he can come up with a decent comeback, she’s grabbing her bag and ordering an Uber on her phone. She nods toward the kitchen.

“The boys had pizza.”

“Thank you for looking after them,” Adrian finally says, and she nods.

She realizes then that she’s not doing any of this to impress Adrian. She’s doing it for the sake of those two boys. She just wants to take care of people.

She kisses him goodbye and leaves.

She arrives back at the Tower, yawning extravagantly as she rides the elevator from the lobby. When she reaches the common room she kicks off her shoes once more.

Bucky is sitting there alone while he watches the TV, and she practically falls down beside him. As if it’s a reflex, his right arm wraps around her shoulders and she’s pulled toward him, her head resting on his shoulder.

She nuzzles his Henley and sighs.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he breathes.

She’s missed this terribly, just being with him. She can’t stand how she feels without him these days. She feels empty.

“What was the verdict about Pop Tarts and Oreos?” she murmurs, and Bucky gives a small chuckle.

“Original Oreos trump chocolate Pop Tarts,” he replies.

“Obviously,” Darcy murmurs, and he chuckles once more, the vibrations on his chest where her hand rests.

She gives the TV a small glance, uninterested by it.

“I’m drunk,” she says.

“I can tell,” Bucky replies.

“How come?”

“’Cause you’re not usually like this, Lew.”

“Like what?” she yawns, and she moves even closer, rubbing her nose on his exposed neck.

She hears him suck in a breath, his grip tightening on her shoulder. She thinks about kissing his neck, and instead of only picturing it, she brushes her lips against his throat.

“Lew.”

It’s a warning. She goes back to nuzzling him, her eyelids heavy.

She must have fallen asleep, because she wakes up in his arms. He’s carrying her through her apartment. He’s going to put her to bed like he did a few weeks ago.

“You’re so nice,” she murmurs, and she feels her arms are wrapped around his neck. She presses a kiss to his cheek, feeling the rough scratch of unshaved face.

“I’m really not,” he replies. He steps over shoes on the floor, bits of paper.

He walks down the hallway and reaches her room, lowering her to the bed. He tries to gently push her to lie down but Darcy only sits up, searching his face.

“I mean it, you’re really great,” she slurs, and whether it’s from her drowsiness or from the wine, Darcy can’t tell. “You’re so pretty, too.”

She touches her face and Bucky’s frozen, his eyes going wider as she cups his cheek.

“I want you to be happy,” she whispers. “You deserve it.”

“You do, too,” he replies. He ducks his head. “Doll…”

He’s never called her anything but Lew and she swallows, her stomach flipping. She remembers Adrian, and her heart begins to hammer.

Whatever he’s about to say, he drops the subject, glancing at her.

“I think I’m gonna puke,” she mumbles.

It’s mortifying in that moment, Bucky grabbing her and hauling her into her bathroom, the toilet seat up as she crouches. He sits beside her, her hair in his fist as she leans over the bowl, groaning.

“You need my finger?” he says, and she shakes her head.

“No, I think I can – oh, fuck.”

She vomits, slowly, miserably. Her eyes water as she pukes up the wine and pizza from the night. It stinks, the smell itself enough to make her retch again and again. She’s glad she hasn’t projectile vomited.

Bucky keeps stroking her face with his other hand, and Darcy feels a sob bubble up before she can fully process him being there with her, seeing her this way.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he murmurs, and she begins to cry.

She’s so lonely without him, can’t he see that? He pulls her into a hug and he rocks her on the bathroom floor. She’s truly a mess by the time she stops crying, her nose blocked and her eyes stinging.

He picks her up again and carries her back to her room. He gets her a glass of water and some Advil for later. She empties the glass while she sits on her bed, and he fills it again wordlessly.

She lies down, staring up at him as he checks her body, pulling the blanket up over her.

“Could you… could you stay?” she asks, and his eyes meet hers.

She has a boyfriend, and he’s her best friend. He swallows, and to Darcy’s surprise he passes a hand over his face, defeated.

“I dunno, Lew.”

She feels that greasy shame once more. He doesn’t have feelings for her, and he’s trying to reject her in the gentlest way possible.

He looks miserable, probably because he doesn’t want to hurt her. He is a good person, and there’s evidence of that everywhere.

He moves closer, stroking her hair and rubbing her face with his thumb. His throat bobs and he makes a sound, something close to a sob but not quite. He’s overcome with emotion and Darcy’s never seen him like this before.

He pulls away, turning his back on her, letting out a shaky breath.

“Stay.”

“No,” he whispers. “I… _can’t_.”

Darcy is hungover the next morning, the memories of last night flooding her brain, making her groan into her pillow. She’s got a headache. She drinks her water and takes the pills, seeing a mop bucket beside her bed that Bucky must have left her.

She must have fallen asleep after he stopped soothing her. Darcy begins to cry, the tears hot on her face as she lays on her side, curling into a ball.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Darcy's judgement is clouded by her own insecurities. Bucky's the same. Bucky isn't callous, he's just hurting as much as she is. No, I'm not telling you when everything works out. Yes, writing this does still hurt. Yes, Darcy is needy but so are a lot of people and it's not a flaw of her character, she's in love with her best friend.
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	7. Part Seven: I'm really glad you came

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for triple the regular chapter size but... you'll see why.

_So I'm gonna fuck it up again_  
_I'm gonna do another detour_  
_Unpave my path_

\- "A Mistake" by Fiona Apple

 

 

**Part Seven: I'm really glad you came**

 

 

Darcy feels like her feelings are pouring from her eyes.

She thinks if Bucky looked at her too closely he could read it on her face:

_I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you._

She doesn’t have to avoid him, because he disappears for a few days and even Wanda asks Darcy about him one morning when they’re both getting coffee.

Darcy just takes a gulp of her drink and shrugs like she can’t bother knowing, when she’s already worried. She doesn’t want to see him but she’d like to know if he was in trouble.

“Maybe Steve can tell me,” Wanda says. “We have to be in Cuba in a couple weeks.”

Darcy blinks at her. “You mean instead of the Maldives?”

“No, we’re not missing the wedding,” Wanda says, “No way am I missing that. Pepper made sure it didn’t coincide but we have a mission with a cartel over there.”

“What is it?” Darcy murmurs.

Wanda hesitates, probably unsure what she should divulge.

“It’s… dangerous, right?” Darcy asks, and Wanda nods.

“It always is but… we’re usually okay,” she replies. “Can you help me with my makeup when we’re away? I still suck at doing my eyeliner.”

Darcy snorts. The woman is telekinetic and she can’t do a decent cat eye if her life depended on it.

“Sure.”

-

She meets up with Adrian for lunch the next day, and she knows he’s holding something back. She was honestly surprised he was able to come that day since he’s still swamped with work.

Darcy eats a salad when she wants a burger. Adrian has the burger she wanted and she keeps looking at it longingly.

“You want a bite?” he asks, and Darcy shakes her head.

“No, I’m – I’m trying to be good,” she says, stabbing some Romaine with her plastic fork, shoving leaves into her mouth.

She could have sworn they were better talkers than this. Adrian just seems preoccupied, and Darcy finds herself thinking forward, to the wedding.

“I, uh,” she begins, and Adrian looks up from his plate, swallowing. “I’m going to a wedding next week. It’s Tony Stark and Pepper Potts’ –”

“I heard about it in the newspaper,” Adrian says, nodding.

“Right. So, do you want to come with me?” Darcy asks, and his face changes.

She feels her heart begin to hammer inexplicably, and she powers through it, putting down her fork and avoiding his gaze.

“I mean, it’s last minute and I know you’re busy but I have a plus one –”

Adrian sits back, taking a deep breath and letting it go.

“Darcy.”

“You can say no,” she finishes, shrugging like it’s not a big deal.

Her heart is still going, going, going as she finally rests her eyes back on his. She swallows, and her anxiety is like a nausea again. She was hoping she’d not feel this way.

“I… don’t think you want me to go with you,” he replies.

She looks at his calm face, the way he carries himself. He’s resigned to this feeling. He knows she doesn’t like him as much as he likes her. Darcy hoped she could keep going on with this, choose him and his life, whichever way that leads her.

“No, I don’t,” she admits. She sighs. She rolls her eyes at herself.

The silence that follows is heavy and awkward, the restaurant around them making up for their lack of talking. A waiter comes by to refill their water glasses and Darcy doesn’t dare look away from Adrian. He deserves her full attention.

He knows he’s who she should want, because he is a great person and he would provide her with support and stability. Semi-stability, if he cut back on so much work. That’s not the problem, though. She knows she can’t be herself around him.

“I can’t do this,” she whispers, and he nods. His eyes drop to her hands that are fidgeting on the table between them.

“I just – I just hope you’re happy, someday,” he says.

She can see he’s hurt, and she swallows the guilt down, hoping she doesn’t regret this. He’s not saying this to spite her. He is a good person.

He’s just not her person.

“You, too,” she murmurs. She almost adds an apology about wasting his time but Adrian adds:

“You seemed… distracted a lot of the time, like someone else was on your mind.”

Darcy blinks, feeling her eyes sting with tears and it surprises her. She thinks of Bucky leaving her alone in her bed.

She’s a real piece of work.

“Yeah,” she breathes. She clears her throat. “Could you do me a solid?”

“What?” he asks, and she meets his gaze again.

“Please get an au pair. Just someone who ties the boys over before you get home. And… try to be there, because they’re already used to being left behind.”

She doesn’t want him to respond to it, knowing all too well that it’s rich for her to dish out parenting advice when she was the one who got drunk babysitting them the other day.

“Okay,” he says.

She has no idea how serious he is. She thinks of his two boys and knows she’ll miss them, but it’s better this way. It has to be.

She puts down some money to cover her food and walks out of the restaurant without another word. When she her boots hit the pavement, she feels something like adrenaline wearing off, and she catches her breath.

-

Darcy doesn’t see Bucky until the day before they’re leaving for the Maldives, and he’s sitting with Steve on the couch.

“’Sup, Old Man?” she says to Steve, who tilts his head at her. “You packed?”

“What’s to pack? My suit and something to swim in?” he mutters, and Darcy rolls her eyes.

“I want drama, suspense. Take your tactical suit and see what happens. There might be some crimes being committed in the Ocean.”

She sits on the arm of the couch, and Steve shakes his head.

“Was sort of hoping it would be an actual vacation, doll,” he says, winking.

“Oh, you’ve already packed it, huh? With the shield?”

“I’m not saying that,” he says.

She looks at Bucky, who’s watching TV.

“Dumbass, you packed?”

His gaze flickers to hers as if he’s only just noticed she was there, and he shifts in his seat.

“Yeah. You packed, shortass?”

“Yes,” she replies, turning her attention back to Steve. She’d rather speak to him anyway.

She’s still in a weird limbo at the moment post break-up. She’s not using Tinder or even going out much. She’s spent more time with Jane, feeling bad for neglecting her friendship.

“What are you wearing?” Steve asks, and Darcy raises her eyebrows.

He doesn’t usually ask questions like that. He knows so little about fashion.

“For the wedding?”

“Yeah.”

“Red. Or white,” she replies. “To assert my dominance.”

Bucky smirks without looking at her.

The truth was, she was wearing a teal dress and she bought a new swimsuit. She’s looking forward to seeing Thor, and getting out of New York for a few days.

“Interesting choices,” Steve says.

Darcy doesn’t stick around. She goes to her apartment with a big bowl of spaghetti and watches _That’s So Raven_ for a few hours.

-

Tony and Pepper have rented out the entire resort they’re staying at for the wedding.

Darcy is over the moon about this tropical paradise the second they make their descent from the clouds. She sat beside Jane on the plane. She tries her best to be present in the moment, but she takes note of where Bucky sits on the plane, at the back with Sam while Steve is with Wanda and Natasha.

Darcy makes the mistake of looking around the cabin when they land, and she catches Bucky’s eye. She blushes automatically, and Jane shoots her a concerned look.

“It’s nothing, please don’t ask about it,” she mutters, and Jane looks behind them and spots Bucky taking his bag out of an overhead locker.

“Are you _fucking kidding me_?” Jane hisses under her breath, and Darcy’s startled by the sudden switch. “Can you please sort your shit out? Please?”

Darcy closes her eyes for a second, feeling pathetic. She’s right. She needs to get over this, move on. Be an adult. It doesn’t stop her heart from hammering when she walks off the plane with her luggage, hoping neither Bucky didn’t catch any of that conversation with his stupid-good hearing.

Darcy’s hut is next to Wanda’s, and she wants to get a drink immediately. She’s been better the last few days since the breakup, not drinking and being a perfectly boring person. She’s been getting up to work and not much else. She hadn’t left the Tower in ages.

Jane is with Thor already in their hut and Darcy unpacks her things, getting changed into her swimsuit under her denim shorts. She knows the Lycra is more revealing than what she usually wears, but she’s not the only one showing more of her body.

She’s honestly surprised Natasha doesn’t walk around butt-naked, the woman is stunning. She stares at her muscled thighs, the same ones Darcy knows Natasha has strangled men to death with. The redhead gives her a little smile and Darcy tries to return it. There’s a shared perspective there. Natasha is short and curvy like her, and she celebrates her looks.

Darcy knows she’s cute. She was hoping she’d feel more confident but she can fake it, sort of. She sits with Natasha on a pier, and she can’t stop staring at how blue the ocean is.

“This is insane,” Darcy says, and Natasha smiles. They turn their heads as they hear someone running toward them and Steve’s suddenly dodging between them and jumping into the water.

Darcy stares as he emerges from the water, the muscles of his bare chest, arms and stomach shining and wet under the sun.

“Holy shit,” Darcy blurts, and he shakes his head. Natasha snorts.

Steve pushes his wet hair back, looking up at them from the water.

“You coming in?”

“I think I might die of thirst, Old Man,” Darcy says, pushing her sunglasses back down. She swears she’s not flirting. But with Steve, it’s hard to tell since he flirts with everyone.

He shoots Natasha a look.

“You comin’ in, Romanoff?”

“I’m thinking about it,” she replies. “But if you splash me, I will kill you.”

“Seems a little unfair,” Steve mutters and Darcy laughs.

“She’s killed men way worse for far less,” Darcy says, and Natasha nods. “So be grateful.”

“Grateful?” Steve repeated.

Darcy sips her strawberry daiquiri as Natasha puts down her phone, bracelet and shoes beside her on the pier before promptly diving into the water. She’s so smooth in the movement Darcy stares at her.

“Hey, Buck!” Steve calls out.

There’s a few seconds of them listening out and there’s a distant reply:

“What, punk?”

“C’mere,” Steve calls.

Darcy sips more of her drink, preparing herself. Jane’s plea from before is still fresh in her mind. She needs to grow up, not avoid.

Bucky walks down to the pier wearing shorts with his Henley, squinting at them. He watches Steve splash around and his friend gives him a long stare.

“You’re so fucking bossy –”

He reaches down, peeling up his shirt and pulling it over his head and Darcy’s mouth goes dry. She’s never seen Bucky without a shirt. While Steve is a gift, he’s like a distinct torture. She misses her straw when she goes for another desperate sip of her drink to not seem like she’s openly ogling him.

Clothes don’t do him justice, especially not the type that covers his broad shape. She had no idea his biceps were that big. Well, some idea but she hadn’t seen them out in the open. His distinct triangular shape seems to point down toward his hips, the two distinct lines enough for Darcy to bite her lip hard and look away finally.

Even is back is too much for her when he jumps into the water, facing away from her when he emerges. Darcy’s the only one sitting on the pier now, and there’s sudden peer pressure all around.

“Come on, doll!” Steve yells, beckoning her.

“It’s so nice!” Natasha adds, nodding.

Darcy gets the feeling they’re both up to something when they look at Bucky and he turns around.

“Lew, come on.”

“It’s _so_ appealing,” Darcy deadpans, sipping her drink again. “With a charming tone like that.”

She doesn’t think she’ll win because they’re all looking at her, waiting. She gives a long sigh, reaching for her sunglasses and taking them off. She moves back, kicking off her flip-flops and undoing the button on her shorts. She pulls them down, kicking them aside.

She sometimes is frustrated by her own chest. Her tits are big and she can’t escape them. Thin Lycra leaves little to the imagination and she does her best to push the self-consciousness down but when she finally jumps into the water and re-emerges she can see there’s colour is Bucky’s cheeks.

She splashes water into Natasha’s face just to break the tension and the spy gives an indignant yell.

“Hey!”

“If you kill me there’ll be witnesses – _ah!_ ” Darcy’s splashed by Natasha in return.

She pushes the wet hair out of her face and spits out seawater, feeling undignified.

“I got an idea,” Steve says, and he shoots Bucky a look.

He ducks under water and Bucky does the same, and suddenly there’s something between Darcy’s legs and she’s lifted out of the water, Natasha doing the same.

She’s suddenly sitting on Bucky’s shoulders, his hands tight around her thighs to keep her in place. Darcy feels her heart hammering in her chest at the idea that her crotch is resting on his neck. Natasha just looks like a mixture of surprise and giddiness, so Darcy tries to go with the flow.

It could be worse. She likes Bucky’s grip on her naked thighs. It makes her mind wander to dirtier places, and if she’s not careful –

She’s already wet from the salt water, so that saves her from embarrassment. She’s glad she shaved everything because this time yesterday she was covered in prickles.

“Wrestle?” Natasha asks, and Darcy gives a nervous laugh.

“Sure.”

They got at it several times, and Darcy falls every round.

“How is this fair?” she mutters, and Bucky pushes the wet hair off her face, fingers brushing her lips. “Didn’t Natalia have a serum growing up?”

“Along with deep psychological trauma,” the redhead adds. “So, there’s that.”

“We’re not using the PTSD card today, sweetie,” Darcy says, shaking a wet finger. Bucky lifts her again and she points down at him. “This guy trumps you all.”

“Darcy’s probably right about this being kinda unfair,” Steve adds, and Natasha shrugs one elegant shoulder. “I say one more round and I’m out.”

Bucky squeezes Darcy’s calf muscles and she claps her hands.

“Right. I’ll fuck you up, Romanoff. Let’s go.”

Bucky chuckles beneath her and they surge toward Steve, and Darcy thinks she’s getting the hang of it, until Natasha really pushes her back, and then she falls again.

Darcy emerges, and she’s kind of relieved it’s over.

Steve’s already swimming to the shore.

“Hangry, Old Man?” she calls.

“You bet, doll,” he replies, not looking back.

Natasha follows him, and Darcy swears there’s a mischievous glint in her eye as she leaves Darcy alone with Bucky in the water.

Bucky’s on his knees, half his chin in the water. His hair is slicked back and Darcy gives him a little splash for the hell of it.

“Hey, I heard you broke up with the lawyer.”

She snorts in a very un-ladylike way, looking toward Natasha’s retreating back.

“I wonder if you thought you could bring that up organically, Barnes,” she replies.

Her eyes swing back to his and he’s looking at her intently.

“Nah. I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I broke up with him.”

Something passes over his face and he just says, “Oh.”

Darcy licks her lips, tasting salt. Her nose is dripping with water and she swipes at it as they fall silent.

She wishes she had the guts to say something more substantial, but she knows she’s a coward.

“You’re right,” he says, and it surprises her. “I wasn’t sure how to bring it up.”

“You care?” she asks, and she regrets it instantly. It makes her sound petty.

“Of course,” he murmurs.

That means something more than what he’s saying. It has to. She lowers herself in the water, copying him. Then she fills her mouth with water and spits it at him playfully, making him jolt.

“Hey!”

She’s possessed with giggles suddenly and he looks annoyed but he’s smiling, and she’s missed this, their little kid things together.

He lunges toward her, fingers digging into her sides and he tickles and Darcy can’t stop squirming, thrashing about in the water while she tries to get away.

“Stop, stop, stop! I surrender!”

She’s screaming, and then she’s aware of how close they are, and their noses are bumping. He’s flush against her, her hands on his hard stomach.

“Fuck,” she hisses, and she’s given herself away again.

It’s turned suddenly serious and his lips part, and she wonders what he sees. She’s sure her eyes are wide, her own wet lips parted in shock. She feels hot all over, and she’s suddenly needy, an itch to just grab at him and –

She moves back, Bucky’s arms falling away.

“I’ve gotta go,” she babbles, and he opens his mouth to say something but she shakes her head. “I really gotta go, I’m sorry.”

He looks away and she feels her chest squeeze her heart. She forces herself to move back, because she can’t do this again. She can’t get hurt. It’s too much to bear.

She walks out of the water, climbing up to the pier to get her things. She turns back to see Buck in the water, hands running through his wet hair.

She notices for the first time the scar tissue close to his metal shoulder. It looks painful. She swallows, putting on her flip-flops to walk away.

-

Bucky doesn’t come to dinner. She doesn’t see him for the rest of the day, and it’s not until the wedding in the afternoon the following day that she sees any sign of him.

Darcy keeps her promise and helps Wanda. In return, she does her hair, making her tresses into a cute updo with a lot of bobby pins. Darcy loses count of how many they use, but she feels like an Ancient Greek goddess in her flowing teal gown that sits off her shoulders.

Bucky is hanging around the back of the service, and eventually slips out just as Pepper reaches Tony at the altar. Darcy looks around and recognizes a lot of famous people, along with some new faces among the crowd of her co-workers. She doesn’t feel like there’s a dry eye in the house by the end of the ceremony, and Pepper is glowing.

“She’s gotta be fucking pregnant,” she mutters in the corner of her mouth to Jane, and Thor’s eyebrows hike.

“Should we have got a gift for the baby as well?” he whispers to Darcy.

“Who knows,” she replies, winking at him conspiratorially.  

He’s hugging Jane from behind and Darcy loves the image of her friends. Everyone, including Tony Stark and Pepper, deserves to find their person.

During the reception, there’s a costume change and Pepper and Tony come into the tent the crowd is sitting around, waving at them and smiling.

“Are they going to do the first dance?” Darcy whispers to Natasha, who nods.

“I’m gonna cry,” Wanda whispers, and Darcy shoots her a warning look. “Right. My face. Got it. I’ll wait for someone else to cry and then it’ll be socially acceptable to look like a raccoon.”

Darcy knows Wanda’s journey, and to have her come from a place of true animosity toward Tony Stark and everything he stood for to being a loving friend and team player means that change is truly possible even for the most unlikely of people.

Everybody claps as Tony and Pepper begin to waltz. Darcy thinks of Bucky and takes a second to look around. He’s most likely hiding.

It then occurs to her that although he was invited, he doesn’t want to be a part of this life event of Tony’s. Darcy pauses her clapping and finds Steve’s face.

He seems to read her and she frowns slightly, searching him for some clue. What should she do?

Once other couples are invited to dance, Steve lingers with Darcy on the edge of the dancefloor.

“He’s not gonna want to be dragged out here, is he?” she murmurs, and Steve shakes his head.

“I want to shake him sometimes, y’know?” Steve replies, and Darcy’s eyes widen slightly, wondering why he’s being so honest.

“For what?” comes a voice, and Darcy sees Bucky in his semi-formal outfit.

“Nothin’, bud,” Steve says, and he sounds a little relieved. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“What, booze Stark’s payin’ for, why not?” Bucky says, and he glances at Darcy for a second, and she could swear she’s distracting him.

The three of them watch the dancing crowd for a couple songs in silence, until Pepper comes over with a big smile.

“For the love of God, woman, tell me if you’re…” Darcy says, waving her hand at her stomach.

“Do you know how many people have already asked me that, Darcy?” Pepper replies, and Darcy crosses her arms, waiting.

Pepper looks toward the ceiling tent for a second.

“Yes. Yes, I’m pregnant,” she admits, and Darcy bursts into a smile.

“Congratulations,” Steve and Bucky say together, but Bucky’s significantly quieter.

Pepper touches her chest with a hand, smiling.

“I’m really glad you came,” she says. “ _All_ of you.”

Darcy’s eyes dart to Bucky to gauge his reaction. He seems only a little uncomfortable. Suddenly inspired when the song changes, Darcy grabs his metal wrist and shoots Pepper a look.

“I’m dying for a dance, so I’ll see you soon, Pep!”

Darcy’s often running away or toward something when she sees Pepper, so the situation is nothing new but her heart hammers at the idea of being close to Bucky again after the water yesterday.

“What are you doing?” he murmurs, and she pulls him further into the crowd, immersing them in the dancing couples.

“Getting you out of that situation, because Steve wouldn’t dance with you,” she replies, and she places his hands on her waist and steps closer to him, gazing up at him.

Bucky tilts his head and makes a face.

“The fuck is this song?”

“I’m sorry, does _David fucking Bowie_ offend you?” Darcy snaps, but she’s laughing. “We can’t just listen to Bing Crosby every minute of the day like you old folk.”

“Hey –”

“Shut up,” she says, and he presses his lips together, nodding.

She’s trying to be in the moment for once, and she wants him to be, too. She’s still a terrible dancer but they move around okay, and she only steps on his feet twice.

Sam drifts by with Kelly from R&D and nods at Darcy approvingly, and Bucky looks like he wants to punch him but Darcy squeezes his arm to bring him back to her.

It’s another ten minutes before they take a break, and they find Wanda sitting on Natasha’s lap, eating some cheese. There’s one empty chair beside them and Darcy feels her heart stutter at the problem in front of them.

She knows the solution, and trusts herself. She’d just danced with him for a while, being around him doesn’t actually kill her.

“You sit,” she murmurs, and he obeys wordlessly.

She joins him, and this time a man has a warning and she hopes she doesn’t land her butt on anything too sensitive as she sits on his lap. Her arm is around his shoulder and she settles into it, forcing herself to keep her breathing even.

She sees the bob of Bucky’s throat and she murmurs, “You okay?”

His face is right next to her tits, unreadable. He nods.

Darcy falls into conversation with Natasha, talking about the food being served, and a waiter comes over with a plate of canapes and Darcy takes one in a napkin and passes another to Bucky.

He practically swallows it whole, crumbs falling on Darcy’s dress that she brushes away.

As the night goes on, she doesn’t want to leave him. She feels as if she belongs there with him. He’s probably thinking about the new Stark baby whose grandparents he killed. Darcy tries to keep him in the present, pushing a beer bottle toward him.

At one point, she pushes back his hair and stares into his eyes. He looks away first for once, gulping his beer. Eventually, Sam and Steve come over.

People are starting to turn in, and Darcy hears someone announce Pepper and Tony are leaving for the night. She gets up from Bucky’s lap, taking him by his hand to pull him along with her.

He tugs her back, shaking his head.

“Lew, no.”

“They’re just going to wave to everyone and leave,” she replies, but he looks reluctant. She squeezes his hand. “It’s okay.”

He gives a sigh and lets her pull him along, joining the crowd outside the tent, Tony’s arms wide as he surveys them. Bucky looks like he wants to hide, but Darcy wraps his arm around her middle, and he presses into the back of her.

When Tony and Pepper leave, there are cheers, and Darcy claps. The crowd starts to either move on to their own huts or they’re going back to the dancefloor.

She turns her head to look up at Bucky.

“You wanna go?” she murmurs, and he nods.

Her stomach flips. “I’m not… I’m not tired. We can hang out for a while. Watch something on my phone.”

He just nods, and she takes his hand again. She knows they’ll be missed but most likely it’ll just be gossip among her friends, and she’ll set the record start tomorrow when the dust settles.

They walk back to her hut, its exterior the only thing that resembles its name. Inside, it’s the same as any other high class New York hotel, and Darcy lets them in.

She gestures to the bed, since Bucky is hovering and she tugs off her earrings, tossing them on the little table by the door.

“Sit.”

“Okay.”

He kicks off his boots and lies on the bed, his ankles crossed together. Darcy takes a second to fully process the image of him there, when for so long she’d denied herself her desire. She swallows, pointing to the bathroom.

“I’m gonna shower.”

He nods. He seems different. She leans down to unbuckle one stiletto, then the other.

“Fuck, my feet are killing me.”

She’s significantly shorter then, and walks into the bathroom and shuts the door. She scrubs at her face so she’s free of makeup, she shaves, cleanses all over. The bathroom is a steamy mess when she comes out to pat herself dry, picking up her pyjama shorts and sleep shirt from the cabinet next to the sink. She’s thankful for her past self that prepared for her stumbling in drunkenly that evening. She takes all the bobby pins out, tugging a little at her hair, swearing under her breath.

“Son of a bitch.”

“You okay?” Bucky calls out.

“Yeah,” she says, ducking back into the bedroom.

His eyes instantly go to her bare legs and she swallows, walking over to the bed and lying down, taking her phone out to open YouTube.

“I’m kinda wrecked,” he says, once she settles beside him, their shoulders touching.

Their legs are beside each other, hers pale and naked with his still trousered and much longer.

“Me, too,” Darcy replies.

In all honesty, she can’t think of anything to watch. Cartoons? It all seems to be sort of banal after a day like today.

Her heart is hammering in her chest when his blue eyes stare into hers. She’s not afraid.

_I’m in love with you._

“Can I stay here?” he murmurs.

Darcy nods, and he takes her hand in his, tracing her palm with a finger.

“This okay?”

She nods again. His fingers trail up her arm, then her neck. He cups her cheek, and she can see his breathing has changed.

Her heart is in her throat when his metal thumb brushes her lip.

“This okay?”

She nods, and his eyes fall to her mouth.

“I hoped so.”

He surges toward her, their mouths slanting together as he pulls her body flush against his. Darcy melts into him, the warmth of arousal in her belly suddenly a roaring fire of need. Her hands go to the sides of his face and he licks the seam of her lips with his tongue. She opens her mouth for him and he moans, and Darcy is startled by the sound.

It feels like he’s trying to fuck her with his mouth, the way he massages her with his tongue, grabs a handful of her ass and rocks into her with his hips.

_Holy shit._

She climbs onto his lap, rocking her hips against his. She can feel his erection on her thigh and she gasps just the same. It’s as if she’s never been kissed. She knows at least that she’s never been kissed like this before, so thoroughly and full of want. She feels light-headed, pulling back and panting. He cups her cheek again, searching her face.

“I’m okay,” she pants, and he nods. He kisses her neck, and she grabs at the back of his head as he moves down her shirt with his mouth.

He tugs at the material. “Let’s take this off, okay?”

“You first,” she counters, and he stills for a second.

“Lew,” he says, shaking his head. But it’s affectionate, sweet, like he can’t believe how excited she is. He’s got no fucking clue.

His jacket is thrown aside, and his shirt underneath is tugged up and off him seconds later, and Darcy’s eyes rove all this muscles. She might start drooling.

“Your turn,” he says, and she obliges.

There’s no going back from this. She gulps, pulling her shirt up and throwing is aside. His lips part and Darcy feels herself blush. Then he moves toward her, capturing her in another kiss, and then rolls them so he’s on top of her.

They rock their hips together for a while as they kiss, Darcy becoming increasingly more desperate as her clit is bumped by the solid weight of him. She loves the feel of their bare skin pressed together. He pushes her legs apart with his knee and his crotch is pushed up into hers, making her gasp. His flesh hand caresses her skin, cupping her breast as he ruts for a good minute.

“Fuck,” she moans, and he grazes his teeth on her jaw, tasting her down her throat.

His tongue trails down her front and she thinks her brain might break when he latches onto her nipple, sucking her into his mouth. He tastes her skin, makes her nipples wet and hard with his attentive mouth. Before she can register it properly, his hot breath in on her stomach, his hands finding the waistband of her shorts and he’s pulling them down.

Darcy lifts her hips when he looks up at her and she swallows, the image of his face between her legs almost too much to bear. His hot breath against her cunt has her panting, and she knows he’d be able to see how wet he’s already made her close-up.

He pushes her legs further apart with his shoulders and Darcy’s hand falls to the back of his head just before he licks up her slit.

She moans, long and louder than she ever expected. She’s never felt so good. He tongues at her, pinning her down into the mattress while she tries to make sense of it, make herself not scream. She’s throbbing under his tongue as he finally buries himself into her, flicking his tongue where she wants his cock to be.

“ _Bucky_ ,” she gasps, and her chest is heaving.

She’s so close, and she’s doomed the second he sucks her swollen clit into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue.

She tenses, and then feels the rush of warmth run through her, the bolt of white hot pleasure as she comes, both hands now pulling his hair, rubbing herself on him.

She shudders through the aftershocks, her thighs coming down from either side of his head. He presses a kiss to her mound and she whimpers, oversensitive.

It’s like a dream. He’s made her come and now she’ll wake up, her hand in her shorts with an empty side of her bed.

Bucky has the audacity to swirl his tongue around her clit again, his eyes glued to hers. She gnaws her lip.

“Buck, _please_.”

He moves up her body again, and his mouth is wet with her juices. He’ll smell of her later, and he wipes his face with his flesh hand, before kissing her chest once more.

“Bucky.”

He nods, nipping at the swell of her breast before kissing her mouth. It turns filthy, and Darcy has hardly a chance to come up for air before he’s pulling down his pants, underwear included.

“Okay?” he murmurs, and she looks down, seeing his uncut cock jutting toward her, a bead of pre-come on its blunt tip.

She nods, anticipating the stretch of him. He props himself up on one elbow, his metal hand going down between them to line them up.

He pauses, and Darcy knows he’s hesitating, even after all they’ve already done. His eyes are full of something – he almost looks like he’s in pain.

Darcy brushes her nose against his and he kisses her again, her thigh hooking over his hip. He fills her so slowly Darcy holds her breath, pulling her face away.

“Oh, my God.”

She’s already a mess, but he’s bigger than she expected him to feel, and she clings to him. He pushes her other leg up to rest on his shoulder and Darcy’s eyes widen at the sensation.

He searches her face when he’s fully seated inside her, her chest like a vice.

“Lew,” he whispers.

They’re wrapped in each other, their foreheads pressing together as he begins to move. Darcy feels like she can’t breathe, it’s too good.

“Fuck,” she gasps. “Fuck, you’re – Fuck –”

She can’t make sense of what she’s saying, but she feels everything, and she wants everything from him. Her hand goes to the scar tissue and he flinches.

“It’s okay.”

He slams into her suddenly, making her cry out. Soon there’s no reprieve and he’s driving into her again and again in long, hard strokes. With each beat of his flesh against hers, Darcy moans in his ear.

He kneads her tit in his flesh hand as he ruts into her, pinching her nipple. He kisses her all over, his own moaning becoming louder the more desperate he becomes. He grabs her ass again and pushes her other leg up to his shoulder, the muscles of her abdomen tensing and she can feel she’s close.

“Bucky –”

She’s going to ask him to play with her clit but he’s there already, rubbing her, watching her eyes widen with overwhelming sensation.

She feels so wanted. She feels so good, so full. She had no idea him fucking her would make her ruined for any other man.

“Are you gonna come again, Lew?” he gasps, and she nods. “You gonna come for me again?”

She falls apart, going still in his arms and he fucks her through it. She finally takes a gulp of air a few seconds later, the edges of her vision turning white. She can feel the wetness on her thighs now, and Bucky groans against her skin.

When he comes, he pushes as far into her as he can and shudders, his massive shoulders rolling above her. Darcy wipes the hair from her face that’s stuck from her sweat and pants with him, waiting for the all-clear.

He slides out of her, and they’re both on their backs, their shoulders touching.

They fall into an awkward silence and Darcy thinks about what this means for them now. She knows she can’t go back to him getting dates for her. She can’t stand the idea of more leggy blondes showing up on the roof with him.

She sits up a little to lean on her elbows and glances at him.

He looks terrified.

“Hey,” she says, and he blinks at her, as if remembering she’s there. Where did he go? “What’s wrong?”

He blinks several times, his eyes filling with tears.

“Fuck,” he whispers, and he begins to cry.

Not like before, but gut-wrenching sobs that have her panicking beside him, stroking his hair as he refuses to look her in the eye.

“Bucky.”

“I can’t be who you need me to be.”

“Says who?” she whispers, and he looks at her properly.

“I love you,” he says, his voice breaking with emotion. “So I can’t be with you.”

“But I want you,” she retorts, pulling him flush against her, their chests sticky with sweat. “I only want you. I love _you_.”

She pulls back, taking his face in her hands.

He whimpers.

“Bucky, I love you more.”

He closes his eyes, more tears falling. “Baby, that’s impossible. You got no idea.”

She presses a firm kiss to his lips, swallowing hard. She feels her own tears start to fall and they lie together for a while, Bucky’s gasps for breath the only sound she really hears.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yayyyyyyyy. P.S. I am fucking DYING up here.
> 
>  
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	8. Part Eight: I'm sorry

_If there are boundaries, I will try to knock them down_   
_I’m latching on, babe, now I know what I have found_

\- "Latch" by Disclosure & Sam Smith

 

 

**Part Eight: I'm sorry**

 

 

Darcy woke with the morning sunlight streaming in through the hut window. She blinks away sleep, remembering last night and her stomach lurches when she sees that Bucky is gone.

He was such a mess last night, and she’d never seen him that bad before. She got up at one point to clean up. The mess they made between her legs had drooled down her thigh and threatened to ruin the bedspread. She remembers wiping it away with a washcloth and returning to Bucky’s side.

She glances around, seeing no sign of him. Something new is next to her earrings on the little table by the door. Darcy gets up to find a piece of paper, a note scrawled in Bucky’s hand.

_I’m sorry_

That was it. She felt tears well in her eyes and she swipes at them. She grabs some clothes from her bag and dresses, leaving her hut in less than a minute. She’s barefoot as she makes her way down to the dining area.

Steve is sitting alone and eating, watching the water behind his sunglasses. Darcy sits opposite him, wondering what to say first.

“I think you and I are the only ones who aren’t nursing a hangover right now,” Steve begins, and Darcy looks up to see him lower his sunglasses, putting them beside his bowl of fruit in front of him.

Darcy swallows hard. “Where’s Bucky?”

“He left,” Steve says, voice soft.

Of course. The second she tells him she loves him he runs the other way. She should have known it would happen. The signs were there. Signs she’d interpreted differently before last night.

“He go home?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say,” Steve says.

Darcy nods, screwing her face up to stop herself from sobbing too fast. She let out a shaky breath, shaking her head.

“We didn’t do much talking,” she says.

“I tried to stop him.”

“I believe you,” she murmurs. She puts her face in her hands and groans, and Steve squeezes her shoulder.

“He just needs… time,” Steve says, and Darcy drops her hands to glare at him, narrowing her eyes. “I’m not making excuses for him, doll. It ain’t right, but that’s just him. It’s what he’s done and I can’t make him come back.”

“Why did he -?” Darcy cuts herself off, sighing. “Why’d he let me do all that last night?”

“Let you?” Steve repeats.

Darcy feels herself blush. “He could have just told me to leave him alone.”

“It wasn’t entirely your idea, I’m sure,” Steve says, giving a small smile.

Darcy groans again. “ _Fuck_.”

They fall silent, and Darcy grabs a piece of watermelon and shoves it into her mouth, chewing slowly. She sniffles.

“He doesn’t think he’s good enough for me.”

Steve sighs. “Yeah, doll.”

Darcy stares at him, and he nods.

“But… that’s crazy,” she says. “He’s incredible. He’s strong, and gorgeous, and so smart. He _cares_ about me.”

“He thinks he’ll hurt you too much.”

She remembers the look on his face when he was about to push inside her for the first time, how conflicted he looked.

_I can’t be who you need me to be._

But he was exactly who she wanted. She didn’t want anyone else.

Steve leans forward, threads his fingers through hers and squeezes. She watches the water for a while, feeling her chest ache.

-

They returned to New York a couple days later. Darcy tried to spend the rest of her time away like she was enjoying it, but she felt too hurt at times to truly experience it.

Darcy didn’t pick up her phone to try to call Bucky. She felt too raw, like if she tried to convince him to come back she’d only come across as desperate. She was, but that wasn’t the point. She didn’t want him returning out of duty or guilt.

She wanted to be wanted.

-

He was nowhere to be found back home. Darcy didn’t look for him. She went back to work, feeling sick all the time.

She wanted to take it all back. If she could go back to being friends then she’d never complain about missing him ever again. She’d never want for more.

She almost convinces herself before she remembers how intense their lovemaking was, and she knows she doesn’t want anyone else. Nothing else could feel so fulfilling.

If he was hiding in his apartment, she didn’t know. He could be at some other girl’s place for all she knew. He could be sleeping in Central Park on a bench.

She tries to not remember how he looked at her when he was inside her, so vulnerable.

_I love you. So I can’t be with you._

She tries to not let her heart soar at the thought of seeing him on the couch in the common room, because every time she goes there for the next week he’s never there. It’s usually Steve or Sam, and they’re trying their best to pretend that they don’t notice her disappointment.

-

Steve knocks on her door one night when she’s in the middle of a _Lord of the Rings_ marathon and it surprises her.

“Old Man.”

“We’re off,” he says, and Darcy remembers Cuba.

“Right,” she says, biting her lip.

Steve looks like he has a lot on his mind but she knows it’s not his job to constantly comfort her. It makes their friendship a little one-sided if that were the case.

“Be safe,” she says, and she brings him into a tight hug. “And remember to bend with your knees, not your back. Fucking dinosaur.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“He’s…”

He trails off, but Darcy knows he’s about to mention Bucky. She tries to not let her anxiety show too much on her face and nods, glancing away.

“Hold down the fort,” he says, and Darcy nods again.

When he leaves she goes back to her TV, pressing play. Aragorn is arguing with Legolas in Elvish, and he’s Darcy’s favorite character but she’s distracted. She picks up her phone, going to her messages in an instant.

She bites her lip, wondering what to write. She keeps writing out essays only to delete them, huffing in frustration. Eventually, she just types what she wants to say the most.

_I love you_

She doesn’t care that she sounds lonely because she is, she can’t deny that. She closes her eyes, putting her phone down while she tries to focus on the TV instead.

Her phone pings after a few minutes and she feels her stomach flip. She grabs it, turning it over to see the notification.

_I love you more_

She feels longing, and then anger. He’s probably on the jet by now, speeding toward Cuba with the others beside him. She imagines Steve reading over his shoulder and flashing him a knowing look.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ouch. But we're close to the end and I promise it's a happy one.
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	9. Part Nine: I don't love the right way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted Part Eight earlier today. Please make sure you've read that first!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_You better be missing me now_

_Loving you has thrown me_

 

_You have been my only rock on the ground_

\- "Missing Me" by Angie McMahon

 

 

 

 

**Part Nine: I don't love the right way**

 

Darcy tries her best to smother her anxiety while her friends are away. Of course it doesn’t work. She thinks the more she tries to stop it the more she notices it.

She feels so much more now that she’s admitting she’s in love, proclaiming it like she has. She can’t concentrate when she gets on that tangent in her head when she’s meant to be doing data entry.

“You slept with him, huh?” Jane says one morning, and Darcy nods.

“How’d you know?”

“You don’t talk about him anymore,” her friend replies.

There’s no judgment there, just concern. Darcy nods again, feeling her stomach twist.

“I love him so much.”

Her voice breaks a little at the end and Jane comes toward her for a hug and she lets her wrap her skinny little arms around her, staining her shirt with blotches of mascara.

Soon her heart with run out of room and it’ll burst, Darcy’s so sure of it.

-

There’s a knock on Darcy’s door and she feels her heart in her throat.

She knows only two people in her whole world who don’t message her before coming to her apartment, and by the way the person is knocking she knows it’s not Steve.

She pulls her front door open and sees Bucky standing there, dried blood on his face. His eyes are wide and he looks like a total wreck.

“Lew.”

She’s done for. She doesn't feel as mad at him in an instant, pulling him inside and inspecting his face in the light of her kitchen. She grabs a washcloth and dabs at his face.

He must have come straight of the jet, not even pausing to change or debrief anyone. She inspects his face and he squeezes her wrist.

“Lew,” he says again, softer. “Look at me.”

She dares to and sucks in a breath, their eyes meeting.

“Why’d you come here?”

She sounds madder than she is. Maybe he half expects her to kick him out for touching her without asking, but she’s the one trying to clean him up. She moves away from him to find her first aid kit, getting out a little alcohol to clean his cuts on his face.

“I have some stuff to say, and I don’t want to be chickenshit anymore, okay?”

Darcy pauses, her hand holding a swab. She presses it to his face and lets him talk, because she’s scared if she interrupts he might just leave her again.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, for everything.”

She levels his gaze, seeing his earnestness. She looks down.

“You regret the Maldives?”

“Fuck, _no_ , Lew,” he hisses. He winces a little as she goes back to dabbing at his face. “I don’t think it should have happened but… I could never regret something like that.”

She swallows, trying to keep her voice even as she throws the dirtied swab aside.

“I wanted to pretend you’re mine,” he murmurs, and Darcy’s eyes widen.

“I am.”

“No,” he retorts, shaking his head. “I’m no good for you, Lew. I don’t love the right way.”

“What are you talking about?” she snaps, taking his face in her hands, invading his space further.

“The… shit in my head…”

He looks like he might cry and Darcy shakes her head.

“I love you. I know you and _I love you_ , okay?”

He swallows thickly, his eyes watering.

“You’re my best friend, Lew. I didn’t want to ruin that. I lost control. We should have talked first.”

“I didn’t want to talk, I wanted you inside me,” she retorts, and he gives a short laugh, surprised at her words. “I’m a big girl.”

“I know.”

She kisses him, light at first until his hand comes up to fist her hair and she moans when Bucky’s tongue slips between her lips. He presses a leg between her thighs and holds her closer to him, lost in the feel of her. When Darcy finally draws back, she’s panting against his wet lips.

“I just wanted you to be happy,” he murmurs. “Wanted someone for you who was worthy.”

He strokes her arm with his metal hand, their noses bumping.

“But I still wanted you, all the fucking time.”

“Me, too,” Darcy whispers.

“Lew…”

“I’m serious. You’re everything to me,” she adds, kissing his lips briefly. “I can be myself around you. I didn’t realize that for the longest time. I feel like…”

“What?”

“I belong with you.”

He stares at her, his throat bobbing.

“I’ll make it up to you, every shitty thing I’ve ever done,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry. I’ll wait for you if that’s what it takes.”

“Shut up, dumbass,” Darcy retorts, bringing him into another kiss.

“I’m scared,” he whispered, and Darcy can see it on his face.

“I believe you, but I’m not that scary. And you don’t scare me, either.”

He scoops her up, carrying her through the kitchen to her bedroom. It’s messy as always, her bed unmade. She wonders how many times he’s been in there thinking about making love to her like he’s about to.

The way he kisses her leaves little imagination to what he’s feeling. He moans when she pushes a hand down his pants with him beneath her. He gathers her on his lap and they move together, clothes barely peeled off to reach one another’s skin.

Darcy gasps when she sits down on his cock, taking him to the hilt with her eyes glued to his.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he gasps. “You feel so good.”

Darcy whimpers when he bucks into her, his arm wrapped around her waist and holding her as close as possible. She circles her hips and he grunts, biting his lip.

“I’m your bestest best friend right now, huh?”

She chuckles as he nods frantically, his grip tightening on her. He bucks and she gasps.

“Lew, you’ve got no idea.”

“I have some –” Darcy pulls off to slam back down onto him and his eyes roll back. “ – _idea.”_

He moans louder than she’s ever heard him and she smiles wickedly.

“This ain’t fair.”

She laughs, until he presses a thumb to her clit and she sucks in a breath. They rock together with mounting desperation, Darcy’s grip tightening around his cock as she rides him. He doesn’t dare disturb her pleasure, watches her fall apart above him before he finally plants a foot firmly on the mattress and rolls them so she’s under him.

He crowds her, her arms wrapping around his neck as he picks up speed, the sweat gathering between them. Darcy already feels loose-limbed and weak, panting against neck as he drives into her over and over.

She can barely hang on but she tries to, nails digging into his back.

Her orgasm hits her like a physical blow and she feels like she could pass out, tensing and slackening while he never lets up. He chases his own release, hands squeezing her ass cheeks as he spills inside her, groaning into her hair.

“Tell me how that’s fair,” Darcy pants, and he gives a weak chuckle.

He pulls out, falling beside her. The only sound Darcy hears is their rapid breathing for some time, until Bucky rolls onto his side, his cock wet and softening against her hip.

“Lew.”

“You gonna run away?” she murmurs, and he shakes his head.

“I’ll stay. If you want me. I’ll stay forever.”

Her eyes widen and she kisses him with more force than he probably expected and she climbs on top of him as he laughs, flesh and metal fingers tracing her bare skin.

“I love you.”

“I love you,” he echoes.

-

The following night, Steve walks into the common room and spots Darcy sitting on Bucky’s lap and he smirks a little as he sits down beside them.

“Am I officially the third wheel now?” he asks, and Bucky shoots him a look.

“Punk,” Bucky says, at the same time Darcy raises an eyebrow, murmuring:

“Old Man.”

There’s a beat and Darcy smiles, glancing down at Bucky and then Steve.

“Officially? Sure. But you always were.”

Steve winks at her as Bucky’s hand goes a little tighter around Darcy’s middle.

He nuzzles into her shoulder, pressing a kiss there as they fall silent once more to watch TV.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading this fic. xoxoxo 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> [That man is playing Galaga!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t4Fy6AUMv8E)
> 
>  
> 
> I went to a bar a few weeks ago and immediately thought of Bucky being in a place just like it, full of arcade games. The place also had pinball machines (with a tournament on the night I was there), as well as board games and console games. It was heaven. It's in Brisbane, Australia and it's called [Netherworld](https://www.netherworldarcade.com/). The bar being called Minotaur is a reference to the comic book retailers of the same name.
> 
> leggo = let's go
> 
>  
> 
> [#an ariana grande song plays in my head when i see his face](https://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/post/184724193503)
> 
>  
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


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